Klisses, Klaine, Perfection
by TheyCantTouchUsOrWhatWeHave
Summary: Basically a bunch of one-shots featuring the adorable fluffiness of Klaine. These themes range from angst, death, futurism, parks, snowmen, sick days, weddings, showers and semi-smut for future chapters. Make sure to make an appointment for your dentist
1. Job Interviews

**A/N: **Hello! My name is Lexi and my passions remain in _Glee_ and writing; they can be quite lovely together. I don't have much of a life, but the shred of life I do possess is spent reading Klaine fanfictions and writing. I ship Klaine, if you haven't noticed, Brittana, Finchel and Samcedes. :) I'd love to hear about some of your ideas or about spectacular _Glee_ fanfictions you've read.

This is a story spawned to allow my brain to leak it's extremely Klainey ideas. They're random, fluffy, cheesy, and hopefully worth it. This chapter is a bit...futuristic and angsty. Kurt and Blaine have broken up *depressed sniffle*, and it is now after high school and college.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>Job Interviews:<span>

His lips reminded him of a rose. Pale pink, constantly pursed to match his inquisitive personality. The way they tasted on his own was unexplainable. They had so much meaning; so much emotion locked into them.

Blaine closed his eyes sharply. No. No, he promised himself that he would not open that door again. With a disgruntled sigh, the middle-aged man heaved himself out of bed. He sat on the edge, amidst the rumpled sheets and put his head in his hands.

Another sleepless night. The indigo bags beneath his eyes only grew larger, amplifying his ever-present five o'clock shadow. Was Blaine Anderson ready to embrace the hell each day brought on? Particularly today, in which he was subtly reminded of his job interview by the kitten calendar on the far wall. The answer was no. It was _always _no.

Blaine stood up and trekked into the bathroom. He splashed his face with icy water, before straightening and gazing at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were hazel, his best quality, he had been told. His form was broad, with square shoulders and thick biceps concealed by a nylon tee. Blaine's shortly cropped curly ebony stuck up in the back, which he hastily finger-combed back into place.

He was going to be late. "Damn it," Blaine hissed, his throat still raw from endless hours of silence.

Without further delay, Blaine stripped and climbed into a shower. The hot water washed away his exhaustion, rolling off his toned chest and soaking his hair. After lathering his body in sickly-sweet lavender bubbles, Blaine toweled off and dressed quickly.

He hastened downstairs and started a pot of coffee. He gathered his briefcase by the door, checking to make sure his résumé and paperwork was safely contained inside. Blaine scooped up his Blackberry and coffee and climbed into his black Sudan.

As he drove alone the paved road, he noted the distant fog that swirled it's way over the distant mountaintops. _Lovely, _he sourly thought. _Just what I needed to complete this hell of a day. _

Minutes later, Blaine pulled into the parking lot of a large factory building. The logo - **VOGUE **- was written in black cursive at the top of the five story brick apartment. He parked the car and stepped out, reluctantly gathering his brief case and making his way up to the front desk. The lobby smelled of roses and expensive perfume. Crystal chandeliers tinkled, attatched to the ceiling, while faint pop music filled the halls. Photographs of beautiful women were posted on the walls, beneath the shining gold of the trim. Everything practically tasted of fanciness.

Blaine awkwardly made his way up to the front desk, ignoring the glares from two women snacking on muffins at the buffet table. A woman with entirely too much makeup on stared down at the man through her pointy-rimmed glasses. Her nametag, fastened to the hem of her pink blousse, read "Shawna".

"Can I help you?" she asked through a nasally voice.

Blaine winced as he inhaled the exhilerating scent of _Justin Beiber's One Love. _Okay, ew_. _"Yes, ma'm. I'm here to see..." He tapped on the screen of his phone. "Mr. Chastity?"

"Ah, Anderson, is it?" Shawna wanted to know, scrolling down the list of names on her desktop. "He'll see you now. Level three, dear."

"Thanks," Blaine mumbled, jamming his case underneath his arm and starting toward the elevator. He couldn't risk loosing this job. He would be screwed. He needed money to pay for his house - he was a month behind payment and the landlord was close to kicking him out.

Blaine heart pounded painfully against his ribs like a caged bird. He needed this _so bad. _The elevator doors opened with a _ding! _and he stepped out. He stalked along the halls, stopping occasionally to read the platinum tags on the doors. At last, the middle-aged man found the door marked 'Chastity'.

He knocked before stepping in. Before him, the room was decorated with the stylish genre of the twenty-first century. Crimson walls, a marble fireplace, bear fur carpet and an oak desk. Seated at the oak desk was a man that nearly made Blaine pass out.

He had windswept light brown hair, startling green eyes that Blaine had fallen so hard for, and a confused expression. "_Blaine?" _he gasped out.

"_Kurt?" _Blaine shot right back. "You work here?" Kurt's gorgeous porcelain skin turned a bright red. "Um, yes. President, actually. Sit?"

Kurt nervously fumbled with a manilla packet, murmuring to himself, "Oh, my God. I knew it said Anderson, but I didn't..."

The memories of their agonizing break-up; the fight, the tears, the undying love that has lasted through numerous dates at gay bars and websites. No matter how hard he tried, he could not match a man with the talent of Kurt.

"So," Blaine stammered, desperate for a topic to discuss - something to shatter the searing awkwardity. "You're married now?"

Kurt's blush grazed his perfectly polished roots. "No. Just changed my last name. Are...Are you?"

Blaine sighed. "No."

More silenced minutes. "H-How's work?"

Kurt smiled, the subject obviously something he flaunted. "Excellent. And you? How was your career of music?" "I quit," Blaine whispered. "I wanted something...more." There was no way he was going to admit that Blaine had left his treasured career on Broadway to find his lost love.

"Ah."

_What are the chances that you're ever going to see him again? There's no fucking way he's going to give you the job, now, _Blaine thought. _Just go for it. The worst he can say is no..._

"Would you-"

"Would you-" Both boys burst into laughter. "You first," Kurt said and Blaine cleared his throat.

"Um, would you like to join me for some coffee later? I mean, for old times' sake?" He could see the outcomes going over in Kurt's mind; the way his expression morphed into one of concern.

Blaine knew he had messed up. Kurt was going to tell him to get the hell out of his sight! He had screwed it up already-

"Sure," croaked Kurt, practically shining with excitement. "I'd love to."

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><p><strong>AN: **How was it? You know what they say - "Every review is like a million dollars"...Except, not really. Anyways, expect an update in the near future. Thank you so much for your time!

Love,

Lexi


	2. Potterhead

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your reviews :) They mean a lot.

Okay, for those of you who are fans of Darren Criss and know about his previous debut in "A Very Potter Musical", will understand this particular chapter. It visits some of his Potter days :)

Enjoy!

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

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><p><span>Potterhead: <span>

Blaine yawned, leaning back and propping his head behind his extended elbows. "Which book do you want me to read?" Kurt asked, running his finger over the display of novels lined up in his book shelf. "We've got _How to Kill a Mockingjay, Romeo and Juliet, Little Women, The Secret Garden, Anne of Green Gables, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone-" _

"That one!" Blaine suddenly exclaimed. "Harry Potter!"

Kurt wrinkled his nose as he gingerly pulled out the immaculant copy and climbed into bed beside his boyfriend. Blaine turned down the light from the lamp, setting it at a low, and hunkered down beneath the satin sheets. He stared up expectantly up at Kurt, whom was opening the book to page one.

It was late on a Saturday night and the two boys had just gotten back from a rambunctius dinner at Breakstix with the rest of the Glee club. They had been so tired that Blaine suggested they read to eachother during a snuggle fest. After a somewhat _entertaining _shower, they had dressed in their matching flanel pajamas and climbed into bed.

"Why Harry Potter?" Kurt wanted to know, tone gentle as he caressed the stubbly jawline of his lover.

Blaine's hazel eyes were screwed shut in pleasure and exhaustion. "Mmmm...I like it...Less talk, more reading..."

Kurt chuckled before he began to read in that high-pitched soprano Blaine would die for. Just as Kurt reached the part in which Hagrid arrived at the house to announce Harry's 'wizard-status', Blaine inturrupted him.

"I just love Harry Potter. He's so..." Blaine muttered, eyes still shut and his voice slurred.

"Quirky?" offered Kurt with a coy grin.

"I was going to say courageous," Blaine said. Kurt laughed and brushed aside the stray, still damp, curls plastered to his forehead.

"God, you're handsome. You're like my Harry Potter. Strong, courageous, amazing...The Chosen One for me," he murmured, face shining with adoration and undying affection.

Blaine's eyes fluttered open at this comment. "But I'm sexier, right?" he joked. "You're like my Ginny..."

"Ginny?" snapped Kurt, recoiling in offension. "She's a _girl."_

Blaine sat up sleepily. "I didn't say you were feminine. What I meant was that you're beautiful, cunning, smart and suave. You're my prince charming, my everything, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt was blushing now, his face like a tomato against the dim backdrop. "Thanks. I love you."

"I love you, too. Now read." Blaine resumed his cozy position in the crook of Kurt's slender waist, wrapping his arms around his solid build.

Kurt rolled his eyes, yet continued to make the words on the page come to life. An hour passed when Kurt finally realized his boyfriend was snoring softly into his chest. With a distant, vague smirk, he marked the page they were on, flicked off the light and curled up next to Blaine.

Blaine released a content sigh, shifting closer. Kurt pecked his forehead. "I love you, my Harry Potter."

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><p><strong>AN: **It wasn't too cheesy, was it? Thanks, guys :)

Love,

Lexi


	3. Guinea Pigs

**A/N: **Please review! Like, pretty please? With Klainebows on top? :) Thanks to all that did review! It means so much!

This was inspired by my guinea pigs, Kurt and Blaine (see how obsessed I am?). The real Kurt and Blaine decided to get some...pets.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>Guinea Pigs:<span>

"Hmmm..."

Kurt entered the living room, collapsing on the velvet couch beside his boyfriend. Blaine had his laptop on his thighs, scrolling down and watching the screen with intimate concentration.

When, much to Kurt's dismay, Blaine didn't greet him, Kurt swung his legs over Blaine's and rested his head on his broad shoulder, gazing at the screen. "What are you looking at?"

"Just, you know, guinea pigs."

"Excuse me?" Kurt sat straight up. "We are not getting a pet, Mr. Hummel-Anderson. You know the landlord has a strict no pet policy."

Blaine tapped the tip of the brunette's nose lovingly. "Wrong. They have a no dog policy. There's nothing about guinea pigs. Besides, I've been researching them all day and every website I have visited says that guinea pigs are the best starter pets!"

"No, Blaine," sighed Kurt.

Blaine crossed his arms. "Give me three good reasons." "Alright. One: They're fucking expensive. We'd need to buy bedding, food, and extra air freshener. Two: We've got college everyday from nine in the morning to three in the afternoon. They'd be lonely and when we try to go to bed, they wouldn't shut the fuck up. Three: They are totally unfashionable, useless pets. And they're ugly. God, Blaine, could you pick an uglier animal?"

Blaine stuck out his bottom lip. "Oh, come on. If we get two, they won't be lonely! And if we put them in the guest room, they wouldn't bother us. I will clean out their cage, I swear! They're fuzzy, babe. And they'll make you look hotter..."

"We are not getting a pet."

"_Two_ pets," corrected Blaine.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Either way, it's a no. Sorry sweetie."

"Please."

"No."

"I will clean out their cage every other day and pay for their food. Hell, I'll even use all my money from work."

"No."

"I'll let you name them both!"

"Tempting, but no."

"Pretty, pretty please!"

"As Mercedes would say, hell to the no."

"I will...blow you every night!"

"Really?" Kurt laughed.

"Oh, come on. You can't resist a daily blowjob," Blaine teased, deploying his puppy dog eyes. "You know what, Kurt? I love you. Like, really love."

Kurt clenched his hands. _Resist...Resist..._"Fine."

"YES!"

*****Three Days Later*****

"Bring them in here," instructed Kurt, holding open the door to the guest room. Blaine grunted as he lugged the massive purple guinea pig cage into the bedroom. He placed it onto the desk and released a contained sigh.

"Oh, finally!" He eagerly peeked through the bars at the two rodents curled up admist the fresh - and already soiled - bedding. The one Blaine had picked out was fuzzy all over; "Perfect for cuddle sessions!" "Oh, God, no. Blaine Hummel-Anderson, do not make me regret my decision."; and a gentle peach color. Kurt had picked out an all black one; "It has personality. I like her"; with big blue eyes.

They were both girls. As agreed, Kurt named them both. Blaine's, he decided, would be called Madonna, Donna for short. His would be named Ebony.

Later that evening, after a somewhat demising supper of macaroni and cheese, the boys sat on the couch in the faint firelight.

"Oh, my God!" giggled Kurt. "It's crawling behind my neck! Make it stop! Oh, God, that tickles! Gah!" The fuzzy black creature slithered behind his neck, squeaking wildly. "Awww! Do you like it back there?" the soprano crooned.

Blaine snickered. "Well, doesn't somebody ignorant enjoy the piggies."

Kurt blushed, stroking his animal. "Don't go there."

"By the way, Madonna is the gayest name-"

"_Shut up, Blaine!" _Blaine laughed heartily. When he recovered, his kissed Kurt's cheek good-naturedly. "You know what the best part about having guinea pigs is?"

"Hmm?" Kurt said.

"They're preparing us for children."

"Children?" Kurt was astounded. Of course he wanted kids, but he didn't think..."You want kids, Blaine?"

Blaine's cheeks flooded crimson. "Um. Yes?"

Kurt attacked his boyfriend's sweet lips, licking them tauntingly towards the end. "Oh, Blaine, me too!" Blaine beamed. "I love you."

"I love you, too. But if you ever make fun of Donna's name again, I will kick you out, buster."

Blaine leaned in for another kiss. "You wouldn't dare."

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><p><strong>AN: **Guinea pigs! Who doesn't love them?

Love,

Lexi


	4. Gender Reveal Party

**A/N: **Thank you guys so much for the reviews! XD Anywho, my mother did this with my two younger sisters! It was really fun.

This one is futuristic; it's about Kurt and Blaine, how they are now married and are using a surrogate mother whom is pregnant with twins and they are throwing a gender reveal party. Some old Glee members and Warblers and parent reoccurances...Yayness

Ideas, constructive critism, non-constructive critism, wry hatred, love notes, grammar/spelling corrections, ambles, all is welcome and appriciated.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>Gender Reveal Party:<span>

Kurt was so excited that he could hardly contain it. He was like a fountain; constantly bubbling with endless chatter. "Oh, my God. I can't believe we made it this far!" "Damn, can you believe it? That we've made it this far?" "We're so far along and I just can't believe it." "Oh, my _God."_

Blaine and Kurt had been married for two years. They had been talking about children ever since their honeymoon. How to do it, who to do it with, how many, genders, names! There were so many questions that took time to answer.

They had finally decided on surrogate, using one of Blaine's childhood friends. Mindy was a beautiful young woman with blonde hair and brown eyes. Kurt demanded that Blaine use his sperm, because of the likely probability of the baby's inheritance of Blaine's curls.

Much to the duo's surpise, Mindy was pregnant with twins. She had arranged a gender reveal party, in which she had found out the genders and made two seperate cakes. If it was a boy, the cake's inside would be blue and if it was a girl, pink.

It was time; streamers of all colors hung in tundrils from the ceiling. The smell of the spiked (Puckerman...) fruit punch escalated throughout Mindy's living room. Mercedes, Rachel, Finn, Puck, Artie, Brittany, Santana, Quinn, Mike, Tina, David, Wes, Jeff, Burt and Carole were eagerly chatting in various places.

Two cakes, both purple, were on the dining room table. They seemed to be taunting Kurt. Good God, this anticipation was absoloutely killing him!

Without warning, a warm pair of lips planted themselves against the cool, porcelain crook of Kurt's neck, sucking and lapping at the salty skin there. "Are you ready, honey?" Blaine whispered into his collar bone. "Do you want to cut the cakes now?"

"Oh, God, yes!" Kurt said, the excitement overwhelming the pleasure. "Chop, chop, everyone!" Kurt called, clapping his hands. "It's time to cut the cakes!"

The room burst into applause, Mindy jumping up and smiling brightly as she ran her hands over the top of her expanded abdomen, the yellow daisy tee stretched far over it.

Kurt, with a jittery persona, took Blaine's hand and lead him to the two indigo cakes. Kurt picked up a knife and ran his thumb over the sharp edge.

Rachel laughed admist the crowd. "Well, somebody's excited." Everybody was dressed in either blue or pink. If they wore pink, it meant they thought the baby was going to be a girl, and if they wore blue, it meant they thought the baby was a boy.

"Blaine! What do you think they are?" asked Wes, taking a long drawl from his beer.

"I don't care, as long as they're healthy," he admitted and Kurt's heart did a flip-flop. Two girls would be nice; doing their hair with big pink bows and frilly dresses. But then again, two boys would mean helping them with baseball and basketball and such. Either would be really spectacular.

"What about you, Kurt?" demanded Mercedes. "Boy or girl?"

Kurt bumped Blaine softly with his shoulder. "I don't care either." Blaine smirked, kissing his boyfriend's cheek affectionately. Blaine took the handle of a knife, positioned it at the top of the right cake while Kurt prepped the left.

"On the count of three," lead Carole. "One!" Kurt's knife penetrated the delectable dessert's top ever so slowly, his hand trembling with the anticipation.

"Two! Three!" The knives sliced in perfect unison, the now chopped cake slice falling to the plate with a _thunk!_

Silence. And then screaming! Everyone was jumping and clapping, squealing with delight. Kurt's cake had been pink and Blaine's had been blue.

The couple embraced. "We're having a girl and a boy!" giggled Kurt into Blaine's neck. "Oh, my God!" "Damn!" Blaine was too awed to say anything else.

Without further ado, the whole room flooded towards Mindy, running their hands over the embedded twins. Meanwhile, Blaine and Kurt couldn't move; they remained in eachother's arms, watching the cakes with wonder.

"Best day ever," Blaine whispered. Kurt nuzzled his ear, chuckling. "Just wait until their birth - you'll overwrite that statement babe," Kurt said.

Blaine nodded, with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. "Very true."

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><p><strong>AN: **As you can tell, I am not the most predictable person. My God, I've written about rainbows, angst, texts, Harry Potter and babies. Randomness! Review?

Love,

Lexi


	5. Lullaby

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews! This chapter was requested by _Mac Morgan Lace_, who politely asked if Kurt and Blaine could have some kids. I accept prompts and am more than happy to comply!

Izabella (Izzy) and Darcie are Blaine and Kurt's adopted OC daughters. Please enjoy :)

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for my pottymouth!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _Probably.

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><p><span>Lullaby: <span>

"_Waaaa! Waaaa! Waaaa!"_ The shrill cry shattered the serenity of Kurt and Blaine's bedroom.

"Darcie," Kurt whispered, snuggling closer to Blaine's thick, bare chest and hoping the shrieks would go away. "She has lungs like her fathers."

Blaine chuckled, pecking his husband's head. "Your turn or my turn?" Kurt didn't reply, instead burrowing deeper into their satin sheets. Blaine shook his head, throwing back the warm security of their comforter and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

He clambered down the hall, rubbing fists into his eyes. Blaine strode into his youngest daughter's room, as usual, cringing at the sight of the sickeningly pink walls. Kurt had simply _insisted _that Darcie was a girly-girl and painted everything _pink. _Unicorns, tea sets, dolls, princesses, the stereotypical girly shit. Blaine didn't like it.

Darcie was seven months old. She had thick red curls and the biggest emerald eyes you'll ever see. They had adopted her four months ago, as their three year old daughter, Izzy, was lonely.

Lying in the crib, plump, purple face resembling a grape, was his pride and joy. Darcie waved her clenched fists in the air, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Blaine scooped her up, patting her back comfortingly. "What's wrong, sweetie? Does your tummy hurt?" When Darcie's ambled screams did not quiet as Blaine's pats increased, he checked her diaper. Clean. "You can't be hungry," he concluded. "Dada Kurt fed you two hours ago. So, what is it, pumpkin?"

"Maybe she just desires for love," came Kurt's gentle voice from the doorway. "Like somebody else we know." He was supporting a bleary-eyed Izzy on his hip. They had adopted Izzy from Africa, her darkened skin shining in the light from Darcie's nightlamp.

Kurt sauntered over to the rocking chair, setting Izzy on his lap. She leaned back into his shoulder. "Daddy, why won't she hush up?"

Blaine crossed over to his husband, sighing in relief as Darcie began to quiet. "For the same reason you wouldn't when you were her age. She's an infant and she needs assurance to know that her daddies are still here."

"And Izabella," Izzy reprimanded her father. "Don't forget me, Daddy B."

Kurt laughed, ruffling Izzy's curls. "We won't ever forget you, Bells."

Izzy released a huge yawn as Blaine sat down on the armrest of the rocking chair. "Will you sing a lullaby? Please?"

Kurt glanced at Blaine, smiling. Already his daughter had a crave for music. She was going to be a great star one day! One with hopefully more sense than Rachel Berry.

With that, the couple began the all-too-famous chorus of _Somewhere Only We Know. _Kurt's gorgeous soprano mashed delicately with Blaine's slight alto. When the song came to an end, Blaine realized their children were both asleep.

Kurt beamed down, cradling Izzy before carrying her out of the room. "Blaine, dear, I'll be waiting."

Blaine stood up shakily and caressed the smooth, creamy skin of his daughter's jawline. "And I'll be anticipating."

He planted the baby in her crib, adjusting the too soft pink blankets around her. He kissed her tenderly. "Goodnight, love. See you in the morning."

Blaine exited the room, striding sleepily down the hall. His heart gave a contented leap of joy at the sight of the welcoming bed and his husband already buried beneath the blankets. Kurt held out his arms. "Blaineeeeeee," he moaned.

Blaine kicked off his slippers and lept in beside his lover. He nuzzed his ear affectionately, looping his muscular arms around his waist. Kurt fit like a puzzle piece against Blaine; he felt so wanted and safe. He inched closer and sighed.

"My, having kids is creating lines. Lines that make me look old," Kurt said.

Blaine smirked. "Don't worry. Just wait until the teenage stage, babe, and you'll be getting zits the size of apples."

"Oh, fuck you, Blaine Anderson-Hummel," Kurt grunted. "You know my moisterizing routine takes care of that."

"But it doesn't take care of the bills," Blaine pointed out, gaze fixed on the hall light.

Kurt's eyes closed. "Less talking, more sleeping." Blaine pecked his forehead. "I love you, Kurt."

"Mmmm..." Kurt appeared to be asleep. Blaine yawned once more before he, too, shut his eyes. "I love you, too, Blaine."

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><p><strong>AN: **Short and...sweet? What did you think of Izabella and Darcie? Prompts! Reviews! Cheesecake! :)

Love,

Lexi


	6. I am in Misery

**A/N: **To my few readers, by God, we've been challenged! My older sister, Annabella, said that she will pay me twenty bucks (I'm broke and it's Christmas...Not a good combo) if I get three Klaine chapters out in the next two hours. Can I do quality work while rushing? I'll let you be the judge :)

Prompts are greatly appreciated. This chapter is dark. I do not like homophobia. Unfortunately, Klaine runs into some rather stupid assholes...It has to happen sometime, guys. Let's say it's their senior year.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for my pottymouth. Then again, what would a story be without shitty cusses? ;)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>I am in Misery: <span>

It was close to the holidays; December first, and many couples were strolling the merry streets of the marketing boulevard. Kurt and Blaine in particular, has decided to get their Christmas shopping done somewhat early.

Kurt's black and red scarf billowed behind them in the frosty wind, half-covering his chapped lips. "Brrr," he said, teeth chattering. Blaine linked his arm through Kurt's, not an easy task seeing as they were both clad in thick coats. Blaine tenderly kissed his cool cheek, earning a swat from his boyfriend.

"B-B-Blaine!" Kurt stuttered. "N-Not here. Not in p-public."

Blaine nodded curtly, feeling the hatred boiling inside of him. All around them couples were kissing, touching, loving, and just because they were 'different', they couldn't show the same signs of delighted affection. It stung.

Kurt pointed towards a clothing store. "We've got to s-stop in there, B-Blaine. I think R-Rachel and M-Mercedes and T-Tina would like s-something from _Macy's, _don't you th-think? And Carole, too."

"Sure," Blaine obediantly agreed. The crowded store provided a blast of heated air as the couple entered.

"Ahhh," Kurt sighed, shrugging off his coat and tossing it to Blaine before rushing over to a stack of Clearance items. Blaine shook his head, chuckling, and followed his boyfriend.

Kurt held up a striped red shirt to his shoulders. He resembled a candy cane. "How do I look? Do you think this is in? I've heard, from Vogue, of course, that the vibrant colors are in this winter season. But I tend to think that shades of blue go with the whole 'snowy scene'. What do you think? Ooh!"

Before Blaine could reply, the brunette was dashing over to a naked ceramic male model. A thin tank top rested on his white shoulders, snow pants smothering his legs. "Ooh," Kurt marvelled. "Do you think Finn would like those? I think Finn would like those..."

A moment passed, Kurt's eyes taking in the artificial abs and muscles the model possessed. Blaine smirked. "Like what you see, huh, Kurt?"

Kurt scoffed. "No. I was just taking inventory of the snow pants, Blaine. Honestly, everytime I look at another man-"

"Another _man?" _Blaine teased. "He's _plastic."_

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Another whatever, you get jealous!"

"Me? Jealous? Perposterous!" Blaine protested, laughing.

However, the joking spirit was soon abided as a looming, beefy man approached them. He was flanked by equally frightening men, shadowing him on either side. At first, Blaine thought they would pass without feud and Kurt could continue to "take inventory of the snow pants" in peace. This was not the case. The large fiend paused in front of the couple, giving them the one-over.

"Fucking faggots," he hissed under his breath. Kurt recoiled, eyes widening.

Blaine steered him over to the scarf section, bravely avoiding the bastards. "'Ey. I was talkin' to ya!" the man called after them. "You homos aren't welcome here. This store is for _straight _people."

Blaine could feel the tension in his boyfriend's shoulders. "Ignore him," Blaine whispered. "He's just trying to tear us down."

"So get your nasty, damned asses out of here before I call the cops."

That was it. Kurt turned on his heel and faced the men. "And what will the cops do about it? Nothing! Because we're just as equal as you!"

"You're unnatural devil spawn," spat the bastard. "Shut up!" shrieked Kurt. "Why must you make a scene? Do you know what homophobes like you people do to gays? They _kill them. _They bully them into oblivion and I am sick of it. Take your dignity, the shred you have left, and go home."

"Don't tell me what to do," he snarled. "Fucking fag."

Kurt's eyes sparkled with tears. "Let's go, Blaine."

"Yeah, that's right! Get outta here, fucking fags."

The tears came dutifully now. Kurt leaned into Blaine's side as they hustled out of the store. Blaine kissed his forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart, we'll find some better snow pants somewhere else."

"I'm not worried about that," Kurt sniffled. Blaine knew he was really upset, as he forgot to put on his scarf. His _favorite _scarf that he flaunted everywhere with pride. "Why are people such assholes? Why do they have to be so predjudice? Don't they realize that kids die everyday because of homophobia?"

"They're insecure, Kurt. You shouldn't let that drag you down." Blaine stopped, tugging Kurt into the Lima Bean. "You're perfect. I know that. You know that. And that's all that matters. Who gives a damn what they say?"

"If the manikan were here," Kurt said as they stalked up to the coffee counter. "He would buy me coffee."

Blaine laughed. "But since he's not here, looks like you've got to fend for yourself."

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><p><strong>AN: **Okay, so it's eight o'clock. An hour and a half to go!

Love,

Lexi


	7. Texts

**A/N: **Two more to go...*yawns* I'm chatting in the _Glee _Chatango chatroom! Join?

This chapter is basically about Kurt and Blaine's text messages back and forth. Please review! It will make magical faeries fly around my head, singing, "Klaine! Klaine!" Seriously, I will be so _happy._

**Chapter Rating: **Somewhere between Teen and Mature, because it mentions the "removement of the pants" and sex and language, but nothing graphic.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>Texting: <span>

Kurt was about to fall asleep. Sixth period History was boring the shit out of him. Mr. Morrison stood at the blackboard, writing about the Constitution of America. Kurt released a dismissive sigh before glancing down discretely to check his iPhone. One text from Blaine...

Kurt glanced at his boyfried whom, in fact, was seated right next to him. Blaine wiggled his caterpillar eyebrows at the brunette and motioned toward Kurt's phone. Kurt rolled his eyes and opened the message.

**Unread message from Blaine: hey babe**

Kurt concealed a smirk behind his hand before swiftly texting back. Blaine grinned, pretending to be 'oh-so-interested' in Mr. Morrison's lecture. Blaine's phone vibrated in his hand.

**Unread message from Kurt-Love-of-My-Life-Hummel: you, blaine anderson, are the most ridiculous man ive ever met**

**Unread message from Blaine: what? is it so bad that i love you and just wanna talk?**

**Unread message from Kurt-Love-of-My-Life-Hummel: youre sitting right next to me!**

**Unread message from Blaine: but we arent talking are we?**

Kurt smirked at this last text, throwing Blaine a pointed stare, which he returned with more waggling of his eyebrows. His fingers tapped over the keypad and he sent his reply.

**Unread message from Kurt-Love-of-My-Life-Hummel: god your so...**

**Unread message from Blaine: romantic? cunning? incredibly incredible**

Kurt scoffed.

**Unread message from Kurt-Love-of-My-Life-Hummel: i was going to say dorky**

**Unread message from Blaine: oh but i am your dork babe**

**Unread message from Kurt-Love-of-My-Life-Hummel: true true**

**Unread message from Blaine: god i love you your so sexy**

**Unread message Kurt-Love-of-My-Life: i love you too**

Blaine noticed the darkening crimson of Kurt's gorgeous features. He ran his hand over Kurt's thigh, while texting with the other.

**Unread message from Blaine: damn your so fucking hot i just want to take of your pants**

_"Blaine!" _Kurt hissed, eyes still trained on Mr. Morrison, who, thankfully, still had his back turned. "That's not-" he pondered. "Classroom material."

Blaine let out a throaty growl in response.

**Unread message from Blaine: damn your so fucking hotttttt**

**Unread message from Kurt-Love-of-My-Life-Hummel: i know but can you try and get over my hotness? save it for after class**

**Unread message from Blaine: i wanna rip off your pants and take that wonderful-**

**Unread message from Kurt-Love-of-My-Life-Hummel: i know what youre about to send and i swear to god you will not get any fucking unless you stop it**

Blaine grumbled, tucking his phone into his pant pocket. The minutes droned by, Kurt now actually taking notes. Blaine slammed his head onto the desk, yawning.

Kurt took his hand under the table, smiling to himself. _Blaine is pretty hot, himself, _he thought vaguely.

Several things happened in the next second. Kurt's hand, which had been clasping Blaine's in his lap, suddenly slipped to palm Blaine through his jeans. Blaine let out a groan that echoed throughout the room, before attacking his lover's lips in a hungry kiss.

The two moved in perfect harmony, their tongues exploring the opposite, heated, wet caverns in pleasure. When they finally could not postpone their aching lungs' hunger, they pulled apart to see the entire class staring at them.

"Mr. Anderson, Mr. Hummel, OFFICE!" thundered Mr. Morrison.

In the hallway, Kurt glowered. "I can't believe you made us get in trouble!" "Hey," protested Blaine. "I wasn't the one paying special attention to your lower regions!"

Kurt chuckled and pecked his cheek. "Well, I suppose it was worth it."

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><p><strong>AN: **Soooo?

Love,

Lexi


	8. Rainbows

**A/N: **One more...One more...I'm tired, damn you, hormones!

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for my pottymouth

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Rainbows: <span>

Kurt Hummel stared out his window at the stone grey sky that stretched far over the rest of the houses in his cul-de-sac. The cool, constant drizzle that had been occuring all day provided the perfect reason for Kurt to throw on his sweats and a tee, grab a glass of herbal tea and curl up at his desk by the window.

Since it was a Saturday, Burt had treated Carole to a specialty diner in a city a couple hours away. They had been gone all day, as had Finn, who had disappeared around lunchtime, supporting a brown bag that read 'Rachel's Toys' and a mischievious smirk.

Blaine was gone, and had been for the past four days. He was away with his father - Washington D.C.? - for a business trip. This seemed to be the most elligable reason for Kurt's depression. He missed his adorable boyfriend; his shining sun!

With a disconcerting grumble, the brunette released a sigh and clambered over to collapse on his bed. The aching gap in his heart burned with vengeance as he glimpsed the picture of Blaine, Warbler-clad, on his dresser. _Oh, Blaine..._

Kurt fell back onto his feather-stuffed pillows and buried his face within the satin sheets. Maybe sleep would provide the luxury of escape...

*****Two Hours Later*****

Blaine grinned from the doorway of Kurt's bedroom, his boyfriend's limbs splayed out, face in the pillows, as he gently snored away. God, he was beautiful and how he had missed him.

Shrugging off his backpack and coat, Blaine quietly made his way over to Kurt's bed. He sat down on the edge, careful not to wake him, and tugged off his shoes. He then began to lead a trail of sweet kissed up his leg, along his spine and over the fuzz smothering his lower neck.

"Mmm..." Kurt groaned, still sleeping. "Blaine...B-Blaine..."

"Yeah, I'm here, babe." He couldn't keep the smile from breaking out on his lips. He was so amazing.

Kurt rolled over, absently pulling his boyfriend up to nibble at his neck. His back arched in pleasure. "Mmm...Don't wanna wake up."

Blaine laughed, the volume exhilerating and causing Kurt's eyes to snap open. "Blaine!" he shrieked. "Oh, Blaine!"

The two glued into a massive hug. "I love you," Kurt mumbled against his neck, inhaling the generate scent of Axe and polyesther. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Blaine laid down, his boyfriend curling up against his muscular chest. Kurt traced circles against his abs, never loosing his intimate facial expression. "God, I missed you."

"Look!" Blaine cried after a few silent minutes. Kurt followed his finger to stare out the window at...

Kurt sat up, beaming. A rainbow.

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><p><strong>AN: **What'd you think? Good? Amazing? Bad? Awful? *fucking yawns*

Love,

Lexi


	9. The Spy Next Door

**A/N: **My whole family is watching _The Spy Next Door_. Annabella is taunting me with the money. I am tired. My littlest sister, Jenessa, is throwing Cheetos at me. Dauna is laughing. My nephew is being psychotic. My brother is not watching his son. My parents are makign out. The dog is biting my toe. Ah, life...Mmm...This movie reminds of _The Pacifier..._

Moving on, this chapter is kind of just amble fluff for the sake of joyous Klaine.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **Last time I checked, I didn't own _Glee. _

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><p><span>The Spy Next Door: <span>

"Blaine," sighed Kurt. "What the hell are you doing?" The brunette was referring to his curly-haired boyfriend, whom was positioned by their bedroom window. He was holding up a pair of binoculars, and they were probably going to leave marks, Kurt realized.

Blaine glanced back at Kurt, red rings encircling his animated eyes. "Oh, thank God. Kurt come here!" He held out his arms and Kurt complied his request, stalking over with a agitated expression. "Blaine Hummel-Anderson, I repeat: what the hell are you doing?"

Blaine pressed his eyes back into the glass disks of the binoculars. Kurt craned his neck, attempting to see what was so fascinating. All he could see was the neighbor's house, two story with a peach-colored outcoat. "_Blaine!"_

"Alright, Kurt." Blaine dramatically turned to take his hand. "This is giong to come as a shock...But our neighbor is a spy." Kurt cocked an eyebrow in his famous 'Bitch you did not' stare. "What?"

"I was getting dressed and I happened to look out the window and _wham! _I see Mr. Brune kicking somebody's ass!" Kurt rolled his eyes. "Blaine-" "No, I mean serious ass kicking. Like kung fu and shit! Oh, my God, we live next to a _spy!"_

Kurt released an exasperated groan. "Come on, babe. We watched that spy movie last night and ever since you've been hung up on that - that horrible excuse for a child's action film." Kurt sauntered over to their bed and sat onto it, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"Would you rather, uh, cuddle?" Blaine sniffed in disgust. "Kurt, I am ashamed. We've got a real _emergency _in our hands! And you want to go."

Kurt's already sharpened gaze narrowed. Okay, now this was serious. If his wonderful Blaine didn't want to cuddle - _cuddle_, for God's sake! - then he was in trouble.

"Fine," the soprano hissed, yanking up a chair and collapsing it into. "If Mr. Brune turns out to be a spy, then I'll give you the luxury of admitting that for one, you were right. But if you're wrong, you have to cuddle with me. Deal?"

"Yeah, yeah," gushed Blaine. "Now watch!"

Kurt struggled to keep his attention on Mr. Brune, whom they could tell was brushing his teeth through the bathroom window. "When is he going to fight somebody?" whined Kurt.

"Soon, soon."

Another round of minutes skittered by. "Oh, my fuck, Blaine! I'm done!"

Kurt stood up, huffing, and ajourned to the bathroom for a shower. _Honestly! _he thought sourly, as he stripped in the multiplying steam of the bathroom, the persipitaion rolling off his toned, muscular chest.

As the young man sat in the marble tub, water pouring like rain around him, he put his head in his hands. God, Blaine was ridiculous. Spies? Okay, really?

Suddenly, strong arms encased Kurt into a strangling embrace. He turned around, the droplets attached to his eyelashes making him Blaine nearly swoon. "What are you doing?" Kurt asked, almost having to shout above the thundering of the water.

"I'm sorry!" Blaine called back, absently tracing figure eights in Kurt's damn sexy chest. "I was being a stupid, dumbass, cuddle-give-up-er!"

Kurt burst into laughter as Blaine sat down and pulled Kurt to rest in between his legs. "Yes, you are. But your _my_ stupid, dumbass, cuddle-give-up-er." He leaned in for a kiss, tasting peppermint tooth paste and the muskiness of Blaine's own aquiration.

When they pulled apart, Kurt gasped out, "And dear mother of God, I love you."

Blaine grinned. "Do you love me enough to stake out all night by the window?"

"_Blaine!" _

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><p><strong>AN: **Mmmm...Only when I proof-read it did I find out how extremely corny that was...*blushes* But I finished my goal - yay - and I shall now retire to my "chambers" for a snooze. Wouldn't it be lovely if I could wake up to reviews? I think so :)

Love,

Lexi


	10. Boy or Girl

**A/N: **_Sparklyshimmer2010, _I am in LOVE with you! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all your amazing reviews! They make me write faster :D Okay, guys. Can I just say that I really _hate _when all of you add my story to your "story alert" list or favorites or whatever, but you don't take the ten fucking seconds it takes to review! Please, guys. I'm trying really hard. Thank you sooooo much to those who _do _review. *heart*

Another kiddie!Klaine :)

**Chapter Rating: **Language

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee...*snap!_* That was my heart breaking...

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><p><span>Boy or Girl: <span>

"Honestly, Blaine, I think we should get a girl," Kurt said, fiddling with a loose thread in his seat.

Blaine's eyes were intently fixed on the road, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. "I told you, I'd prefer a boy. I don't know anything about girls. I'm _gay_, my mom kicked me out when I was fifteen. And neither do you! I'd rather have a kid I can relate to, you know, biologically."

Kurt shook his head. "Wouldn't it be fun to try something new? Dress her up in frilly little dresses and pink bows. I can help her choose out her clothes!" Kurt was close to begging. The couple were on their way to the adoption agency, read and excited to pick out the newest member of their extending family. Kurt wanted a girl, but Blaine wanted a boy.

"Listen to us; we sound as if we're talking about some kind of toy, damn it. They're _children, _not household items." Blaine reached across the divider and took his husband's hand. "We'll know which one to welcome into our lives when we see him or her, alright, babe?"

Kurt smiled widely. God, Blaine was amazing. "I love you."

Blaine waggled his eyebrows. "Yeah, I know." And then, "I love you, too."

The adoption agency smelled like linen laundry and baby formula. Kurt's nose wrinkled as he stepped into the well-furnished lobby. "Oh, good Lord, Blaine. Please tell me that our baby is not going to smell like this."

Blaine shrugged. "I make no promises."

"Hello, there!" A cheery woman supporting two babies, one on each hip, greeted the duo. "Welcome to Maxwell Adoption Agency. You must be the splendid couple I've talked to on the phone...Kurt and Dwayne?"

Kurt burst into laughter, clutching Blaine's arm. "You hear that, _Dwayne? _We're splendid."

"It's, uh, Blaine," Blaine corrected, blushing.

"Right, right. Sorry, hon. Won't you follow me back here?" They entered a room with about twenty cribs. Babies of all ages crawled around on the ground. Some were burping, crying, laughing, sleeping, playing. The very sight overwhelmed Kurt like a tital wave.

"Here are our kids, ages four months to two years. We've currently got twelve boys and nine girls. Quite the load if you ask me, that's why it's so great to have a lovely couple like you adopting. We really aren't sure if we're going to be able to provide for all of them this Christmas...Anywho, why don't you browse and see if you find a lil' angel you like."

Kurt hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "It's so sad, Blaine. I-I-I..."

Blaine pulled him into a hug, tenderly kissing his forehead. "I know, love. I know."

When they were ready, holding hands, Kurt and Blaine trooped through the room. They craved a child no older then a year, with spunk, spirit and a big heart. Alas, they came upon a miniature table.

A little girl with matted blonde curls and big blue eyes was coloring a picture. Beside her was a little boy with identical traits. Kurt knelt down. "Hi, I'm Kurt and this is my husband, Blaine. What're your names?"

The girl glanced up shyly. "S-Serena." "I'm Samuel," her brother offered. "Are you gone 'dopt us?"

Blaine's chin trembled and he looked up. "How long have you been here?" Kurt wanted to know.

Serena shrugged. "How old are you, then?" Samuel held up sticky fingers. "Two. I'm two. We're twins."

"I can see that," Kurt chuckled. "How would you like to come home with us? We're looking for some children, we can't have babies of our own, you see. We'd really love it if you'd be our little...well, son and daughter."

Serena attatched herself to Kurt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes! Yesyesyesyesyes!"

Blaine's heart swelled as Samuel clutched his knees. "Yay! We're gone have parents."

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><p><strong>AN: **I don't know. I've just always thought of Kurt as somebody who wants daughters...

Love,

Lexi


	11. The Wedding

**A/N: **I seriously had a miniature heart attack when I read all of your reviews. I love, love, love you guys! Please accept this nonexistant plate of chocolate-chip cookies :) Shoutout to everybody that reviewed; _sparklyshimmer2010, karina-xx, Mac Morgan Lace, Lil'BlueEyedBeauty, KlaineLuneville, Katerina4life, _and _Samurai Tsundere._

Do you guys have any prompts? Do you want to see more kiddie!Klaine chapters (I have a whole list of names of their kids I'm waiting to use)? More fluff? Angst? Crack? Please review your opinions :) And I will make them happen.

It's time for a wedding! Wooo! :D

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for my pottymouth

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>The Wedding: <span>

Kurt couldn't stop the fruitful bout of tears that poured like a river from the corners of his eyes. He couldn't remember ever being this emotional...Unless you count whenever he got made fun of in elementary school, his mother's death, every fight with Karofsky, _The Notebook, _the temporary feuds with Blaine, Burt and Carole's wedding...Okay, he could remember.

Rachel and Finn were getting married...Finally! Kurt adjusted his neon purple lapel. Rachel had never been one intuned with sensible fashion colors. A wedding in winter should obviously include albicant and azuline, not aubergine. The very thought of the clashing shades made a shudder ripple throughout his body.

"K-Kurt." Kurt looked up at the slight sniffle from the corner of Rachel's bedroom. Rachel, looking quite striking in her mermaid-styled wedding gown, looked up with puffy red eyes.

"Hey, hey," Kurt whispered, kneeling down and offering her a Kleenex. With a quick glance around, he realized Quinn, Santana, Tina and Brittany had already gone downstairs. "Don't cry; you'll mess up your makeup."

Rachel graciously took the tissue and blew her nose loudly. Kurt cringed. "What's the matter? Is it Finn? Do I need to kick his ass?" he asked.

"N-No. It's just..." She looked up with big, tear-filled brown eyes. "Kurt, am I doing the right t-thing?"

"Ah, pre-wedding jitters. Everybody gets them, Rach."

"N-Not Barbra Streisand," Rachel replied, dabbing her mascara.

"Barbra's not married," Kurt said, supressing a chuckle. He took he hand. "We've got to go. It's now or never, Rach. Do you love Finn?"

Rachel nodded slowly. "I-I do. With all of my heart." Kurt pulled her to her feet, dusting off the hand-sewn hem of her dress. "Well, then come on."

She leaned in for a hug. "Thanks."

Kurt smiled. "Any time." With one last glance - and grimace - at his reflection in the mirror, Kurt lead Rachel downstairs. They paused at the wooden doors, spying the other bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up.

Rachel's fathers, Matt and Bryce, each extended an arm, which she clasped greatfully. At the front of the line, were Puck and Quinn. Puck was dressed in the same sickening suit as Kurt, while Quinn wore a low-cut, frilly lavender gown. Next were Tina and Mike, followed by Brittany and Artie. Santana was holding Blaine's arm, and Kurt lined up with Mercedes.

Kurt could hear Rachel's ragged breathing. He craned his neck, muttering, "You got this", just as the doors swung open. The classic wedding music filled the room as Puck and Quinn began the trek down the petal-strewn aisle.

Finn was waiting, with his arms parted and a smile so big, Kurt just knew he would get lines. Gradually, Rachel's breathing became normal, excited even. When the couples split and waited for Rachel's fathers to give her away, Blaine's lips ghosted over Kurt's ear.

"Isn't this beautiful?" It was barely audible. Kurt gave a slight nod. "Subtract the fucking _awful _purples, and yes, babe, it is."

Blaine scoffed, the priest shooting him a death glare. "Do you, Finn Paul Hudson, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Finn's eyes were brimming with tears.

"Y-Yes. I mean, I do."

"And do you, Rachel Maxine Berry, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Rachel nodded, hands trembling. "I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." There was an awkward moment before they leaned in...And promptly began to suck eachother's lips off. Rachel's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and Finn's went around her waist.

Puck nudged them apart. "If we want to make it to the reception in time, we'd better get moving. Save it for the honeymoon, bro." And then with the bells chiming and their faces glowing crimson, they sped down the aisle.

Later, in the limo on the way to the afterparty, Kurt laced his fingers with Blaine's. Blaine looked up. "Do you think, someday, that we'll have a wedding like that?"

Kurt's heart hammered in his chest. "Yes, except with better fashion sense."

Blaine laughed. "I honestly don't care where, when, how or with who we do it. I just know that we have a love that burns like a fire; something that will never be extinguished. And Kurt, I love you."

Kurt blinked. "I-I love you, too. More then you will _ever _know."

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><p><strong>AN: **I actually had to do a little research for the "Fancy color names". I'm cooking up a Klaine holiday special, but if you want it out soon, please review!

Love,

Lexi


	12. First Steps

**A/N: **Y-You guys! *sniffle* The FANTABULOUS reviews modivated me to post another chapter today :) I love you all! I feel..._sparkly. _So, please keep submitting prompts. Whatever you submit, I will comply!

This chapter was requested by _KlaineLuneville, _who wanted to see more kiddie!Klaine. As you know, I have a list. Writing these makes me happy :) Again, I'm up on the _Glee _Chatango chatroom. Ooh, and does anyone want to challenge me to a "chapter race"? I'll be up all night watching, _Murder, She Wrote _with my hippie of a mother.

**Chapter Rating: **My mouth should be filled with soap ;)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>First Steps:<span>

"Shhh. It's okay, sweetheart," cooed Blaine, shaking his arm so the infant nestled against him bobbed to a steady rhythm. He held his nine month old son, Noah. Noah Anthony Hummel-Anderson was created with Kurt's sperm, therefore he had Kurt's downy caramel locks and big blue-green eyes. "Come on, go to sleep. Daddy Kurt and I are tired."

Kurt, sitting cross-legged beside him, yawned and pressed a hand to his forehead. "What time is it? Like, three? I have work in the morning, Blaine."

"I know, I know. We've tried everything. Feeding, burping, changed his diaper, sang to him. Maybe he collicky?" Blaine suggested, staring down at his son in dismay.

"Ugh. Don't even _go _there," snorted Kurt, fiddling with the Thomas the Tank Engine nightlight on his wall. "Perhaps you should let him crawl around for awhile. Let him burn some energy."

Blaine nodded, unwrapping the baby and placing him on the floor. Noah sat up, staring at his fathers as if to say, _What? Why am I down here? _He clenched and unclenched his tiny fists. Then, without further ado, the baby propelled himself over the plush creme carpeting.

Kurt chuckled as he found a chewtoy on his bookshelf and promptly jammed it in his mouth. Blaine leaned against his husband, exhaling loudly. "I am _exhausted."_

"You're not the one working," said Kurt, ruffling his curls.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Watching Noah is work."

Kurt's eyelids slid shut. "I thought we-" *yawn* "-passed this stage; the 'wake us up in the middle of the fucking night for no apparent reason' stage."

Blaine smiled. "Uh, Kurt..."

"Doesn't Noah have a heart? Doesn't he want his daddies to catch at least one hour of fucking sleep?"

"Kurt-"

"I mean, seriously! I-"

"KURT!" Blaine shouted, his husband's eyes flying open with annoyance.

"What, Blaine? _What?..._Oh." His voice trailed off as he caught sight of what had seemingly transfixed Blaine.

Clutching onto the bars of his cribs with white knuckles, perched on chubby, wobbly legs, was Noah. He looked back at his fathers, drool dribbling down his chin. "Gah!" he giggled. "Dada! Dadadadada!"

Kurt's eyes welled with tears. "Blaine, that's our _baby!" _He robotically knelt to the ground, holding out his arms. "Noah, Noah, sweetie. Can you come here? Come here, angel!"

Noah's features scrunched up in concentration. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, murmuring, "You got this, Noah. Come on, babe."

The child released the bars and stumbled. Kurt lurched forward to catch his son, but Blaine stopped him. "Watch." Noah steadied himself, took a deep breath and took a step. And another. And another.

At last, he collapsed in Kurt's awaiting arms. "Oh, baby, you did it!" Kurt cried, burying his face in the fuzz of his hair and inhaling the wry scent of Johnson's Baby Shampoo. "You did it!"

Blaine's cheeks were striped with tears. "He walked. He actually _walked."_

"Dadadada!" bubbled Noah, looking up proudly. "W...Wa...W-Walk? W-W-Walk? Walk?"

There was a moment of silence. "Did he just...Did he just talk?" asked Blaine softly.

Kurt nodded slowly. "Oh, my God. Our son just talked and walked."

"Dada! Walk!" He beamed happily.

"That's right," Kurt whispered. "You walked. And you _talked. _Good Lord, what the accomplishment!"

Noah curled up in against his body. Blaine stared down in wonder at their kid. "He's amazing," he said.

"You know what this means, right?" Kurt continued. "We've got an advanced child. An _advanced child. _We've got to start teaching him to read. Next comes subtraction..." Kurt climbed to his feet and carried Noah to his bed. He tucked him in and flipped off the light, Blaine stooping to kiss him. "You know what? Scratch that. We need to teach him the time tables."

They entered their bedroom, slipping off slippers and pulling back their blankets. Kurt climbed in, snuggling down between Blaine's comforting embrace. Blaine switched off their lamp.

"And then we've got to enroll him in a high-tech prepatory academy..."

Blaine shook his head at his husband's shere imagination. "Kurt?"

"But it can't be just any academy...What, Blaine?" Kurt said.

"No more talking." He tightened his hold. "Snuggle."

Kurt sighed. "We've got to discuss our child's intelligance..." Blaine snored. "Fine, fine. I do enjoy snuggling..."

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><p><strong>AN: **Did you like it, _KlaineLuneville? _Those who also submitted prompts will appear in the next chapters. Thanks!

Love,

Lexi


	13. I Love You

**A/N: **The reviews are just piling in and I feel so honored :) This wasn't a prompt; just a way they first could've said, "I love you," to eachother. I also just became a beta, so if you need one, you know who to call! :D

I still desire reviews and prompts. There's a sex scene coming up...Perhaps that'll modivate you?

**Chapter Rating: **Just make an appointment at for your dentist...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>I Love You: <span>

**Kurt POV**

I couldn't keep the smile from my lips. Everytime I looked into his perfect hazel eyes, I'd have to stop myself from swooning. When he saw me grin, he'd blush and crane his neck, as if to murmur, "What?"

I took his hand, starring in awe at the amazing stars above us. They were like perfect, twinkling diamonds laid out on a navy velvet blanket. I sighed in content, a frosty bubble of mist coming from my lips.

**Blaine POV**

He was like an angel, his downy caramel locks sprayed beneath his porcelain head. He wore a white button-down and my way-too-big sweater. His gaze was fixed on the flawless midnight sky, while mine, was fixed on him.

I had taken him to a restaurant earlier and then by the pond for a late-snuggle fest. We laid a picnic cloth on the dewy grass and curled up together. The air was frosty, scented with pine.

I kissed our linked hands and he looked over at me, smiling. "You're so gorgeous." I felt the words rising up from my heart and tasted sugar cookies as they bounced off my tongue.

**Kurt POV**

Now I was the one blushing like a fool. My heart thumped against my rib cage, like an imprisoned bird struggling to get out.

I caressed his jaw line, fingering a loose curl. "You're so _handsome." _I felt the words rising up from my heart and tasted an oversized lollipop as they leaped off my tongue.

His eyes grew wide and he kissed each one of my fingers. I arched my back and closed my eyes, relishing in the sweet contact.

**Blaine POV**

There were only three words that described the worldwind of emotions that I consumed me. I gasped, suddenly short of breath. Oh, God. How would he react? Would he flip out and say he wasn't ready?

Before I knew it, I was consious of the words bubbling up...

**Kurt POV**

There were only three words that could describe the tornado of emotions that consumed me. I choked, suddenly short of breath. God, what if he flipped out and claimed he wasn't ready?

Before I knew it, I was consious of the words bubbling up...

**Blaine POV**

"I love you..."

**Kurt POV **

"I love you..."

**Blaine POV**

Our voices collided in perfect harmony and I lept forward to kiss him. We moved as one, and I knew that the words I had spoken were true-er then ever. _I love Kurt Hummel..._

**Kurt POV**

Our voices collided in perfect harmony and he leaned over to kiss me. We felt so compadable; so right. Instantly, I knew the words we had spoken were true-er then ever. _I love Blaine Anderson..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yay? Nay?

Love,

Lexi


	14. Nessarose

**A/N: **Chapter race, anyone? I feel awfully bored as I sit here by the fire and fill my mind with pointless cartoon crap my sisters enjoy viewing...Moving on...Gah! I love you guys! Reviews are like...staring at Chris Colfer's ass for five minutes. They're _almost _as awesome.

This was prompted by _sparklyshimmer2010, _who said (and I quote), "_I think something I'd love to see is them with a cat ^^". _Tell me whatcha think!

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for my pottymouth.

**Disclaimer: **If you think I own _Glee, _you're high. I am not male, nor am I named Ryan.

* * *

><p><span>Nessarose:<span>

"Blainnneeee," Kurt whined, fiddling with the magnets on the fridge as he pressed his phone to his ear. "Blaine, I'm _lonely." _

A distinct sigh echoed from the other end. "Honey, I know. But I'm working. If you want me to quit my job at the office and cater to your every need, that's fine. Just remember that we'll have to live on the streets."

Kurt pouted. "I want you to come home."

"You know that no money means no more Marc Jacobs."

"Oh, my God," Kurt said. "I get it, okay? I just wanted some company!" This had been going on for a long time. Blaine had a job as an intern at his father's office half an hour away. Work started at seven, therefore he needed to get up at six - _six - _every morning. Work ended at five, and Blaine returned home around five thirty. Kurt was home Monday through Friday and it seemed like _forever. _Afterall, what was life worth if he couldn't see his husband's shining face every moment of the day?

"Why don't you call up Mercedes? Meet her for lunch?" By the sharp curve of Blaine's tone, Kurt could tell he was getting frustrated.

"Fine," he snapped. "Fine, Blaine. Fine. I'll just go out with my friend; my friend that happens to have a newborn baby and another one on the way. You know, whatever. I just _love _to put up with Mercedes' obnoxious son and her pregnancy hormones. Fine, Blaine."

With that, Kurt profoundly hung up. His own words stung. He wrapped his arms around himself, brushing his elbows tenderly. No matter, he would make up with his lover when he returned home...

* * *

><p>"Kurt, babe? I'm home!" Blaine called, shrugging off his coat and hanging it in the closet.<p>

"In here!" Kurt replied.

Blaine entered the living room, supporting the cardboard box beneath his arm. Kurt's gaze was glued to the T.V., which was playing an old episode of _I Love Lucy. _Kurt looked up. "Hey, baby. What've you got? Is that from the post office? Did I miss the UPS man again?"

"No, no. It's just...a little something I picked up on my way home. I thought it'd be useful after our arguement today," Blaine said, placing the package on the coffee table.

Kurt's cheeks burned. "You didn't need to get me anything."

Blaine pecked his forehead. "Just open it."

Kurt glanced at his husband with curiosity before gingerly prying apart the lips of the box. A small mewl escaped and Kurt froze. "You did not..." He ripped it open and squealed. "A kitten! A kitten! Oh, my God! A kitten!"

The furry created stared up with big brown eyes. She was an attractive little fluffball, with downy fur the color of Kurt's hair. She had tiny paws, matched with an equally tiny body.

Kurt lifted her out, transfixed. "Oh, Blaine...She's amazing. I love her so much." The kitten nestled Kurt's neck, purring contently. "You like it back there?" he cooed. "Awww."

Blaine chuckled. He was proud of his desicion. Perhaps this way he could get more work done. "The rest of the stuff's in the car. Why don't you decide on a name while I go get it?"

Kurt nodded happily, holding her at arms-length and intently studying her. "What should we call you? Huh?" The kitten released another mew and Kurt placed her on the ground, noticing the silver-like fur that covered her back paws. "Those look like shoes...Silver Shoes! I know what I'll call you. Nessarose, after the _Wicked _character."

Blaine paused in the doorway, shaking his head. _Wicked? _Of course Kurt would name their pet after a famous broadway musical character. And afte the Wicked Witch of the East, no less.

* * *

><p>As the weeks rolled by and Kurt fattened Nessarose up, the calls became more spaced. Kurt only called maybe twice a week now. Blaine hated to admit it, but he missed them.<p>

One night, while cuddling after supper, Blaine decided it was time to say something. "Why don't you call me any more, babe?" he wanted to know.

Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine's neck. "I thought you didn't like me calling you."

"Well, I didn't," Blaine admitted. "But now...I guess I miss 'em."

Kurt laughed. "I'm honored my formally annoying pesters are finally getting recognized. What makes you suddenly feel remorse, Mr. Hummel-Anderson?"

Blaine sighed. "Now all I have to do is focus on work. Actually _focus. _I miss getting little breaks when my husband calls me. It helps me clear my mind."

The brunette rolled over, tangling his legs with Blaine's. "Mmmm."

"Maybe we should get rid of Nessarose. I mean, I swear that creature has it out for me," said Blaine.

"You were the one that got her for me!" shrieked Kurt. "I'm attatched. We can just _give her away. _I love her."

Blaine nodded slowly. "Fine. As long as you promise to continue to call me."

Kurt grinned, turning over and facing the wall. "We'll see."

* * *

><p>Kurt stroked the cat nestled in his arms, bending his neck so he could hold the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Yes, hello, I'd like to speak to Blaine Hummel-Anderson, please? Thanks."<p>

He waited as the secretary beeped his husband and smirked as his voice appeared on the line. "Kurt, sweetheart? Is there something wrong?"

"Why does there have to be something wrong? Can't their be a faithful husband who simply yearns for the angelic murmur of his lover?" Kurt said.

"Angelic, huh?" Blaine sneered.

"Oh, don't pretend like you aren't enjoying this conversation, mister. Do you still want to give up Nessarose?" Kurt asked feebly.

"No," Blaine answered. "I don't."

"Good, because I wouldn't let you."

"Kurt, dear, reply honestly, alright? If Nessarose and I were-"

"Shut up, Blaine. You know I love you more."

"...I know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Cheesy, stupid fucking ramble that had no base. Shame on me! Prompts, review, Chris' ass.

Love,

Lexi


	15. Cuddle Remedies

**A/N: **:,D I luuuuuurrrveee you guys! Thank you so much! Especially to s_tarkidgleek0502_ for all the amazing encouragement. There shall be some sex coming up, along with a Christmas special and a pinapple allergy.:) MUAHAHAHAHA...Oh, and tampons...Don't ask.

This chapter was graciously prompted by _starkidgleek0502, "__Kurt and Blaine have an argument? They end up even closer together though?"_

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for my pottymouth.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Cuddle Remedies: <span>

"I cannot _believe _you went and fucking _lost _my Marc Jacobs sweater!" screamed Kurt, pacing around their living room angrily. "Didn't you know how important that was to me? Oh, my God, Blaine."

Blaine sat on the couch, running his hands through his matted curls. "Kurt, I said I was sorry, okay? I took it to the special laundromat, like you told me, and I guess there was some sort of mixup, because another guy took it home."

"That wouldn't have happened if you had waited! Some dumb ass took it home! Took _my _antique Marc Jacobs sweater _home. _Do you know how much that thing costed? Five hundred bucks, Blaine. Five hundred. Where do you expect me to a get a new one? At the fucking thrift store?" Kurt was fuming. Blaine could practically see the steam emanating from his ears.

"I'm sorry!" he said, for the millionth time. "I'll get you another one for Christmas."

This was the wrong thing to say, he realized, as Kurt's gaze narrowed even further. "Oh, you think you can just get me a new one and _voila! _everything's okay? No, no, Blaine Anderson. That's not how it works. That sweater had memories embedded in it! Memories I can never get back!"

Blaine stood up. "It's a fucking sweater, Kurt! What's so important about it?" he cried. "Does it still smell like shit, like back when you were tossed in the dumpsters everyday?"

Kurt froze. Blaine froze. And then Kurt snatched his car keys off the table and headed towards the door. "Kurt...I'm sorry. I didn't mean it...I wasn't thinking," Blaine said softly.

Kurt swung open the door, his back turned. "I guess you really don't remember, then, do you?" he whispered. "B-B-Blaine. That was the sweater I wore when we...when we first met."

The door closed as the brunette exited. Blaine stepped back in shock. How could he forget? How could he be so careless? Tears poured down his flaming cheeks as he collapsed on the couch. "Oh, Kurt..."

* * *

><p>Blaine was barely consious of another body worming it's way between the sheets. Could it be? Could it be his boyfriend returning to their apartment at last? "Kurt?" he murmured sleepily as warm lips pecked his cheek.<p>

"Yes, sweetie." Kurt snuggled closer, entertwining their fingers. "I'm s-sorry for being so bitchy. It was just...I really liked it, you know? But I know it's not your fault."

Blaine exhaled. "It was my fault. I was stupid and oblivious and I should've waited. I should've known what it meant to you - what it meant to the both of us. I'm sorry. I love you."

Even though it was pitch black, Blaine could see Kurt's illuminating grin. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that."

Blaine smiled right back, burying his face in his boyfriend's neck, nibbling the skin there. "Why don't we...make a memorial service for the, uh, sweater? You know? Have an _occurance _to remember it by?"

Kurt chuckled. "I like where this is going...I love you, too. So much."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **AND THEN THEY HAD SEX! THE END!

Has anyone heard the new _Glee _mashup? "Moves Like Jagger/Jumping Jack Flash", sung by the one and only Artie Abrams? I was listening to it while I wrote this :) Love you, Artie. Or "We Found Love", sung by Rachel? Incredible, I tell you!

Love,

Lexi


	16. Pineapples

**A/N: **I'll tell you what; If I can get fifty-five reviews by tomorrow morning, I'll post the sex chapter. You guys can do it! I have faith :) And sex...

This chapter was prompted by _KlaineLuneville, _who said, "_So Klaine's son Finn goes to the hospital after tripping over Nessarose and stabbing his arm with a toy and discovering his severe pineapple allergy."_

Tell me if I...captured your prompt in the correct fashion :) Finn is six (named after Kurt's brother, duh)

**Chapter Rating: **Oh, my God, this is the first K rated chapter of this fic! XD

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Pineapples:<span>

"Daddy? Where's my - AHHH!" Finn started to call before he went sprawling over a brown lump. Pain shot through his arm as he realized his toy boat was lodged in his arm. "Daddy! Ahhh!"

"Finn? Finn, where are you?" Blaine shouted. "Finn!" came Kurt's equally worried scream. "Finn, baby?"

Both men rushed to their son, crying on the floor of his playroom floor. "D-D-Daddies," he choked out, tears striping his face.

"Oh, my God," Kurt shrieked, kneeling down and inspecting the toy boat. "Blaine! Call nine-one-one!"

* * *

><p>"Shh. Shhh, sweetheart, I know," cooed Blaine, rubbing his son's shoulder reassuringly as the Hummel-Anderson family awaited the results of the bloodtest in Finn's hospital room. "It's okay."<p>

Kurt wiped his eyes on his sleeve, leaning against the sink in the far corner. Who could've known that toy boats could get so far lodged in a person's arm? Who could've known that there was a chance of poisoning because of it? And who could've know that Nessarose was fat enough to trip his six year old son?

"D-Daddy Blaine, am I going to b-be okay?" stammered Finn, his eyes swollen and red.

"Yes, you will, babe. You'll be fine."

Just then, the door opened as the perky blonde nurse entered again. She plastered a lipstick-y grin on her lips, holding out the clipboard. "Well, we've got your results back, Finn. You have not been affected by the poison."

Kurt squealed and kissed his son happily. "You hear that, babe?"

"Unfortunately," continued the nurse, "we did discover some rather startling news..."

"What?" Blaine immediately piped up. "What's the matter?"

"Your son has an...allergy. An allergy to pineapple," said the nurse.

"Pineapple. Pineapple? Pineapple," repeated Blaine, seeming dazed. "That's a little...

"We've given him pineapple before," Kurt said sourly, crossing his arms. "How come he didn't have a reaction, then?"

The nurse studied her feet before looking up guiltily. "I was kidding. It's a joke we play, you know? Some happiness. On a more serious note, your son has cancer."

"Oh, my f-" Kurt screamed.

"WHAT?" Blaine raged.

"Hahaha," she chortled. "I'm just kidding. No, he does actually have a pineapple allergy."

Blaine stared at her. "Are you serious this time or what?" he snapped.

"No, no, I'm serious. Hey, it's better then cancer. Basically, just keep Finn away from pineapple and he should be fine. We'll give you an epipen in case," she said, smiling. "Au revior! This was fun."

"That _bitch," _spat Kurt, only to look over and see his husband and son laughing.

Blaine shrugged. "It was a pretty good joke."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Worst chapter EVER! I apologize for the suckiness. Review? Sex...Joyous sex.

Love,

Lexi


	17. Suicide

**A/N: **So, I was bored and decided to look up Klaine videos on YouTube. This lead me to crying and texting all my friends that I love them and then _voila! _this was born! It's very angsty.

Kurt is at Dalton and him and Blaine have just started dating. He returns to McKinley for a visit, only to find that they have been making fun of him. He thinks back about all the things they've done to him, mixed with the bullying from Karofsky and...

Eight more reviews and you shall retrieve your delicious sex scene. After that, comes the Christmas chapter! Woooo! I love you guys :)

**Chapter Rating: **Teen+ maybe? There's an "almost suicide" and possible triggers and language.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>Suicide: <span>

He was done; done with everybody. The glee club was supposed to _support _him, not tear him down. Kurt looked up at the bathroom ceiling, not caring that his hair was a mess, nor that his tears were staining his Marc Jacobs sweater. It was all going to be over.

Kurt's hand shakily positioned the knife at the tip of a blazing blue vein. He caressed it softly, hoping the rupture would bring agony that would send him spiraling into darkened relief. He shut his eyes.

_Ohhh. Damn...That fucking hurt! _Kurt dropped the knife, breathing heavily as he inspected his wrist. Pearls of blood splattered the tile flooring. Kurt chews his lip. Better. With every drop, a block of pain is removed from his chest.

Spots danced before his eyes. Is there a god? Is there a hell? Will he go to hell? He shakily gripped the sink, knees wobbling. _"You...make me feel...like I'm living a teenage dream, the way you turn me on..." _His phone flashed a picture of Blaine as the ringer boomed through the bathroom.

Kurt brushed it off carelessly, lowering himself onto the plush carpet. Blaine didn't love him; he _sympathized _him. He dug his fingernails into the gash, wanting to rid his mind of his boyfriend.

"Ah!" he cried out, the pain blinding him momentarily. It hurt...but he could control it. What the glee club said about him - gossiped - was something he couldn't do anything about. They caused him pain. This was something he could control and bind. Something that he could stop or start.

He began to loose all feeling in his arm, fireworks going off in his head as his phone rang once more. He could almost taste relief...But why did it taste like a grande lowfat mocha? And why could he see a red and navy scarf?

The guilt licked at his insides, churning him with vengance. Kurt laid down against the bathtub. The pain...The rejection...The fucking rumors. They all hurt so bad!

Tears poured heavily from his cheeks. _Goodbye, Dad, _he thought. _Be good to Carole. Bye, Finn, you no-good-son-of-a-fucking-bastard! Oh, why did I ever love you? And why won't my phone shut the hell up?_

Blackness crowded his vision. Perhaps he should check his phone...one last time? He clutched it with bloody fingers, clicking the "answer" button before he could stop himself. "Kurt, thank God," breathed Blaine. "I was so worried - especially since you ran away like that. Did everything go okay at McKinley? Kurt?"

"B-Blaine," he choked out.

"What's wrong, babe? Is it Puck? Did he do something to you?" Blaine wanted to know. "Or was it Karofsky again? Finn?"

_He remembered their names..._Kurt blinked hard, trying to clear the clouds in his mind. "Kurt?" Blaine's voice was fading. "KURT?"

"B-Blaine...I-I'm bleeding...I cut myself...I can't...I can't..." Kurt croaked.

"Oh, my God. Kurt, stay on the phone! I'm coming! Kurt! Kurt!" Blaine was screaming. Kurt faintly heard a door slam, his limbs becoming numb. "Kurt, don't you dare go. Don't you dare leave me alone. Kurt, Kurt, please. Kurt, I love you. I love you. _I love you."_

Those three words were all it took. Kurt didn't want to die. He felt like he was being consumed by waves; he was fighting to surface. How could he have been so selfish? He couldn't leave Blaine! Blaine _loved _him.

"Kurt," Blaine's voice was high-pitched with worry. "I'm coming down the hall, just stay with me, okay? _L-Love, I get so lost sometimes. Days pass and an emptyness fills my h-heart."_

Peter Gabriel? Kurt's thoughts were fading. Blaine was definitely crying as he sang to him. "_When I want to run away, I drive off in my c-car. But whichever place I go, I come back to where you are. All my instincts, they return and the grand facade, so soon will burn,without a noise, without my pride. I reach out from the inside. In your eyes,  
>the light the heat, in your eyes. I am complete in your eyes. I see the doorway to a thousand churches, in your eyes. The resolution of all the fruitless searches, in your eyes. I see the light and the heat, in your eyes. Oh, I want to be that complete. I want to touch the light, the heat, I see in your eyeeessss."<em>

The bathroom door banged open, but Kurt didn't notice. Strong, warm arms rocking him back and forth as fresh, unknown tears splashed his sweater, but Kurt didn't notice. The angelic singing voice sobbed out the lyrics in his ear, but Kurt didn't notice.

"_Love, I don't like to see so much pain, so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away. I get so tired of working so hard for our survival, I look to the time with you to keep me awake...and alive," _Blaine whispered. "Kurt, please. Please tell me you're alive. Please!"

A pressure on his wrist finally alerted him of the blood beneath his body, of the man crying into his shoulder, of the sound of David screaming for somebody to call nine-one-one. Kurt looked up into the curls tickling his nose.

"Blaine."

Blaine stopped, shuddered and sat up. "Kurt!" He lurched forward, sobbing even harder. "Don't you ever do that to me again! I thought I'd lost you."

Kurt kissed his head gingerly. "I-I'm sorry. But that was the cheesiest wakeup call I've ever gotten," he said, chuckling.

Blaine snorted, still shaking. "Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, I want you to remember forever that you're perfect."

"I-" began Kurt, but Blaine shushed him.

"No. You're perfect. Everything you do, everything you say, everything. I love you, Kurt. Love, I don't like to see so much pain...So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away...I get so tired of working so hard for our survival..."

Kurt joined in for the last verse. "...I look to the time with you to keep me awake...And alive. I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The song was "In Your Eyes", by Peter Gabriel. Thanks!

Love,

Lexi


	18. Beautiful, What's Your Hurry?

**A/N: **SEXXXX!

**Chapter Rating: **Come on, people! It's sex! And therefore, the rating of this story is also changing to M.

* * *

><p><span>Beautiful, What's Your Hurry?:<span>

Kurt was aware of the tension; the awful, biting tension strung tightly between them. He recalled the crash as his mother's china dish plate flew from Blaine's hands and shattered on the tile flooring. His _mother's. _He recalled his frenzied, angered cries as he reprimanded Blaine roughly. And then Blaine was leaving, calling him a drama queen.

Even after his husband had returned home hours later, and climbed into bed with him like nothing had happened, he still felt stupid and childish. The darkness of their bedroom glowered over his shivering form.

It was then that Kurt noticed something...Something warm and wet and encasing travelling it's way up his toned torso. He threw back the sheets anxiously, revealing the curly-haired man. Blaine licked a seductive stripe from the rim of his boxers to his collar bone.

Kurt's back arched, desperate for more as Blaine's devilish hazel eyes fastened onto his own. "I'm sorry," he whispered in Kurt's ear. "I was an ass...And I want to make it up to you..."

"W-With sex?" Kurt rasped, already feeling his cock harden. "Oh, God."

Blaine grinned. "With sex," he confirmed, continuing his path down Kurt's feverish body. He glanced up, tugging his boxers down softly. Blaine's gaze penetrated Kurt's cock, like it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

Blaine took it in his hand, the pleasure sending spikes to the pit of Kurt's stomach and pumped it roughly. Kurt growled. "Mmm...Blaine."

He took it in his mouth, expertly tonguing the slit before swallowing it whole. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked. Kurt shuddered at the arrousing sight, clenching the sheets. "Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, fucking...Gah, Blaine..." Kurt mumbled, head now thrown back in ecstasy.

Blaine was sucking his cock like a fucking lollipop. Kurt's fingers laced into his matted curls, directing his head where he wanted it to go. Blaine massaged his balls, feeling them contract beneath the pressure.

Kurt lurched, panting. He was close. "B-B-Blaine...If you want to...I mean, I'm going to...AH!" Blaine removed his mouth.

"Yeah, I'll get the lube."

It was all the brunette could do to refrain from stroking his aching cock. The purpling tip twitched, begging for more friction. Kurt wouldn't last long at all. Blaine squeezed lube onto his palm, rubbing his hands together to warm it up. Kurt, meanwhile, laid patiently on his back with his legs spread welcomingly. "H-Hurry," he croaked.

Blaine circled Kurt's opening, feeling the muscle loosen. He then tenderly eased his pointer inside, watching Kurt's expressions as they contorted first in pain, then in pleasure. "Mmph...Harder..." Kurt pleaded.

Blaine eased another digit in, scissoring through the tight space to graze his prostate. "OH!" screamed Kurt, feeling pearls of pre-cum dribble out. "My God...I need you...Inside m-me."

Blaine nodded understandingly. "I know, sweetheart." He slicked up his somewhat thicker cock, wincing as the cool gel made contact. He positioned himself at his lover enterance, caressing Kurt's jawline. "Baby, I love you. So, so much."

And then he thrust inside the heated cavern, hissing at the warmth and tightness. "Mm...Babe, you feel so _right. God..." _

Kurt shuddered. "G-Go. Move." Blaine's hips rocked back and forth, slowly at first, and then quickly. Every other thrust, Kurt's prostate was licked. Kurt cried out as Blaine's hand encased his cock.

"Blaineeeee..." he warned. "C-C-Cumming...AHHH!" Kurt's semen spilled over their stomachs, Blaine's eyes screwed shut as he continued to thrust before reaching his peak.

"K-Kurt..._Kurt! _Gah!" He pulled out, shakily exhaling and placed the tube of lube on their bedside table.

"Shower," said Kurt, seemingly having regained all control. He tugged his husband out of bed, and lead him into their bathroom. Blaine removed his shirt while Kurt flipped on a steaming jet of water.

The duo climbed inside, allowing the streams to soothe their sore abdomens and relaxed in the bottom of the marble tub. Blaine rubbed shampoo over Kurt's stomach, cleaning off the cum.

Kurt kissed him passionately, settling between his legs and gazing up at the water. "I love you," he muttered. "You're so amazing."

"In bed, you mean?" chuckled Blaine. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Now that you're done reading that hopefully sensual piece of sex - yeesh, that felt odd writing - here's some more authorish stuff;

Prompted by: _Katerina4life_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

Hopefully that wasn't awful - it was my first time EVER writing about sex. Yeesh. Again, I feel...dirty ;)

Love,

Lexi


	19. Tampons

**A/N: **So, this is just something spawned for a little bit of humor. And I changed the rating to M because of the last chapter. I still need prompts! :) I'm not going to post anything tomorrow, because it'll be Christmas where I live, but I will post the Klaine Christmas chapter tonight.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language and girl puberty (hahaha)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Tampons: <span>

Harley couldn't breathe. Oh, God, this was so embarassing. She stood in front of her fathers, anxiously bouncing from foot to foot. How was she supposed to bring this up? It was times like these that she wished for a mother.

"Uh," she said sotfly.

"What is it, honey?" Kurt asked, holding Blaine's hand. "Is everything okay?"

"Um, yeah, I just..." she began.

"Harley, you know you can tell us _anything. _We won't judge you. Is it a boy?" Blaine inquired gently.

Harley shook her head, the dark curls she inherited from her father bouncing. "No. It's, uh, okay. I guess there's no easy way to say this...Dads, I need to - I mean, I started my...I..."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Oh," he said with realization.

Harley's cheeks went up in flames. "C-Can you take me to g-get some?"

Blaine looked curiously between them. "I don't understand." Kurt rolled his eyes. "Blaine, Harley started her period."

Harley stared down at her feet. "Uh, yeah."

"Oh. _Oh."_

* * *

><p>"Okay, sweetheart, we can get pads or tampons," Kurt told his thirteen year old daughter. Harley gazed up at the packages piled neatly on the shelves. Big, medium, small, MAX, tiny, extra padding, panty liners.<p>

"I don't know which ones," admitted Harley. She didn't have an older sister or a mother or even a sex educator at school to teach her about all this stuff. None of her other friends had started. God, this was so awkward.

Blaine gripped her shoulders. "Why don't we get some of both? That way you can try them out?" he suggested.

"'Kay," she whispered. Other girls strolled the aisle, chatting with their mothers.

Kurt threw two packages in the cart, holding Harley's hand. "It's okay to be nervous, Ley. Everyone is. I know it's hard for you because you don't have another girl in your life, but we want you to always know you can come to us for anything. We've had girlfriends, mothers, trust me, we understand. And no matter what, we love you."

Harley leaned into her father's side. "I know. Thanks."

He ruffled her hair. "Although, I have to say this is worse then buying bras, huh?" he chuckled. Blaine linked arms with his daughter.

"Everyday's an adventure, huh, babe?"

Harley laughed. "You have no idea."

The curly-haired girl ran ahead and Blaine smiled. "She's amazing."

"I know," Kurt replied. "God, this was a rollercoaster. Honestly. I forgot about the 'puberty' aspect. I forgot about the mood swings, the boyfriends, the...What if she gets hurt or something? Drugs? Smoking? Porn? Oh, my God."

Blaine glanced around before swiftly pecking his cheek. "None of this is going to be easy, angel. She's a teenager, but remember that as long as we have eachother, we can get through this. Harley's going to break some rules, join the wrong crowd for a little, maybe, but she'll always have us to steer her in the right direction. She's our baby girl and we love her no matter what."

Kurt beamed. "I love_ you_ no matter what."

"And I love you...As long as you promise to take her tampon shopping from now on."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **This chapter was a little awkward to write, but I thought since I've already written about sex and such, there are no more boundaries. :) Thanks for all the faithful reviews - they're fantastic. Merry-Christmas-Eve.

Love,

Lexi


	20. Realization

**A/N: **Feel free to shun me. Shame! Shame on me! Or, rather, shame on my computer. I was all prepared to start on the Klistmas special, when my FUCKING COMPUTER CRASHED! I am so sorry. Since Christmas is over, leaving me with piles of new movies and _Glee _stuff, I see no point in posting it :(

Anyways, this shall be continued at various times...When, I'm not sure, but it will come. This is super angsty, and yes, there will be death D:

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language and character death

**Disclaimer: **I do not own_ Glee, _I do, however, own every album, poster and "special movie".

* * *

><p><span>Realization:<span>

It was just an innocent blood test. Kurt had simply been subject to a persistant cold and Blaine had taken him in. The moment he answered the call that stormy saturday morning, he knew something was wrong.

"Mr. Hummel?" came the all-too-chirpy nurse's voice on the other end. Kurt stirred his cup of coffee, grinning slightly as his boyfriend's arms laced around his waist.

"Speaking."

"We have some...unsavory news, sir, but we don't want you to be alarmed. There's a good chance we can stop it before it spreads any further," she said softly.

Her words sent piercing icicles into Kurt's heart as he froze. "What is it?" Blaine asked. Kurt silenced him, gripping the phone like a life support.

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Hummel, sir, you have...leukemia."

The phone clattered to the ground. Blaine shook his boyfriend by the shoulders. Tears began to fall, Blaine picked up the phone and then he, too, was sobbing.

Kurt believed he was fine. The doctors gave him some pills and told him that he was to come in twice a week for radiation therapy. Blaine and Kurt were slowly pulling eachother back together, struggling to hold onto the fact that Kurt _was_ getting better.

One late night, about two weeks into treatment, Kurt stood in front of the bathroom mirror, swallowing the pills. Tears snaked their ways down his porcelain cheeks. Who was he kidding? He couldn't do this; he couldn't survive this disease. Cancer was controlling his body and his mind.

"Kurt?" Blaine called. "Kurt, sweetheart?"

Kurt hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Um, in-in-" He clutched his pouding head. The world spun around him and he dropped to the floor. "Blaine!" he whimpered.

* * *

><p>Quinn Fabray. Santana Lopez. Brittany Pierce. Rachel Berry. Tina Cohen-Chang. Mercedes Jones. Finn Hudson. Mike Chang. Artie Abrams. Noah Puckerman. Burt Hummel. Carole Hummel. <em>Blaine Anderson.<em>

These were the people he loved; the people he wanted nothing more then to spend time with before he...before he...He squeezed his eyes shut, balling his fists in the terribly cliche sheets of the hospital bed. _Blaine Anderson._

Why him? Why did he have to die? Why hadn't he gone to the doctor's sooner? Why? The tears - the ever-so-familiar-tears that never seemed to stop - slipped from the corners of his eyes. They were supposed to get _married. _They were going to adopt! He was going to be a broadway star. Blaine was going to begin his own music studio. And then their dreams were crushed just because of a little something called death.

He turned over on his back, staring up at the white ceiling. The doctors told him that he had three days to live. Three days and then he would simply...die.

The preppy constitutioners for the "Save a Day" foundation had promised to fund whatever he wanted to do for those three days. But he didn't know. A part of Kurt Hummel simply wanted to lay in bed and cry...And there there was a more pressing part that wanted to get the hell out of theere and fucking _live._

His heart thumped painfully in his chest. W-What would death be like? Would it hurt? Was there a heaven? If so, would he go there? What if he was a ghost, trapped beneath the lives of the living and the dead. Could he be a guardian angel? Watching over Blaine endlessly?

No. No. _Shut up, _he thought angerily. _You're stronger than this, Hummel. Stronger! _It was then that everything became clear. Since he was going to die, he wanted to help people. He wanted to...wanted to show teenagers that had been tortured that everything was okay. He wanted to spend every moment with Blaine Anderson.

Kurt's legs wobbled as he slid out of bed, shakily trudging to the door. He glanced out, spying his family in the waiting room, Blaine was crumpled up in a chair, his face in his hands. He turned and strode the opposite way, shoving the image out of this mind.

He didn't know exactly what he was looking for...He just knew he'd know when he saw it. Kurt arrived at the elevator, pressing the number three button and clambering inside.

He passed the first couple doors on the level. And then he nudged open the fourth one. There. There he was.

A boy, maybe fifteen, sat on a bed. He had a thick gauze bandage wound around his head, a crimson spot indicating blood. His complexion was terribly pale, the awful blue of the crimple gown making it ever so. His hands shook, gripping the metals bars, his eyes closed.

"Hello," Kurt whispered.

The boy jumped, staring at him. "A-A-Are you the doctor?" he asked tentatively, crystal blue eyes sparkling with tears.

"No. I just - I came to talk. My name is Kurt," Kurt said.

"I'm James. James Hastings."

Kurt smiled tenderly, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "What happened James? Why are you here?"

James turned away for a moment. "I...I got shot. In the head. S-Some asshole jocks at my school..."

"Are you gay?" Kurt already knew the answer.

"Yeah, you gotta problem?" he snapped.

"No, sweetie. I'm gay, too."

"You are?" he blinked.

"Yeah. Not an easy road in high school, huh?"

"Not at all. Why are they all so ignorant? It's not like I'm hitting on them."

"That's life. Some people just can't accept others being different."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" James wanted to know.

"I do. He's wonderful." Silence.

"Does it get better?" James sniffled. "I mean...Does it?"

Kurt took his hand. "James, you're amazing. You're intelligant, strong, cute, quirky, funny. And someday you're going to find a guy that loves you. It does get better, sweetheart, as long as you believe it."

"Why are you here?"

"C-Cancer, they told me."

"Are you going to d-die?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Here's a sneak peek for the sequal:

_"Where are we going?" Kurt asked, laughing airily as his boyfriend tugged him down the familiar, looming hallways of Dalton Academy. Blaine smiled back at him. "Don't you remember this place? The memories concieved here?" he asked. "How could I forget? This staircase is where we met."_

Yes? No? I suck?

Love,

Lexi


	21. Coffee

**A/N: **I have a blog! :) Please check it out...The link is on my profile page and the blog is basically good Klaine fiction recommendations. And from the blog, you can get the link to my videos. Woo!

Don't worry, more chapters to my angsty cancer *sob* saga shall come. :,( Thanks for all the encouraging reviews! Does anyone want to challenge me to a chapter race? Come on, people...I have ideas just tumbling around my brain.

**Chapter Rating: **K, appropriate for all ages

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Coffee: <span>

"Can I get another medium drip, please?" Blaine asked the perky brunette behind the coffee counter in the Lima Bean.

Kurt nudged his shoulder, holding his own half-full mug in his hands. "Really, Blaine? That's your second one today.

Blaine shrugged, taking the cup the brunette handed to him and instantly bringing it to his lips. "Hey," he said, lowering the cup and following Kurt back to their table. "If I want to be suave all the time, I'm going to need some energy boosters."

Kurt burst out laughing. "What?" Blaine demanded angerily.

"Have you ever considered that maybe...coffee is the reason for you...hobbit height?" Kurt snickered, laying a hand atop Blaine's.

Blaine blushed. "And what do you mean by 'hobbit height'?" he replied touchily.

"You're short-" Kurt began.

"Short, my ass. I'm...average...ish," Blaine repented.

"Babe, it's okay. I don't care how tall you are. But I've heard that too much coffee can stop growth."

"Poppycock," growled Blaine.

With that notion, the duo halted the conversation for the rest of the time they were in the cafe. However, Kurt noted Blaine's sudden lack of interest in his medium drip. As they left the Lima Bean, Blaine tossed his coffee in the trash.

"What're you doing?" Kurt said.

"I, uh..." Blaine's cheeks are crimson. "I'm going to lay off coffee for a bit."

"Because of the height issue?" Kurt pressed, stiffling a giggle.

"No..."

"No?"

"Yes, okay? Are you happy?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Short and coffee-filled. Yay for coffee and growth halting! My older brother's really short because he used to drink hardcore black coffee everyday...Like three cups everyday. I don't know if it's genetics or the coffee, but I think it could be the coffee for Blaine's sake...I love his hobbit ways :) Chapter race? Blog?

Love,

Lexi


	22. Princess

**A/N: **Chapter race, please, people? I enjoy cranking these out :)

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee, _damn it.

* * *

><p><span>Princess: <span>

Kurt glanced after his fifteen year old daughter as she sped up the stairs. "Kellie?" he called. "Sweetheart, how was your date?"

He recieved no reply from the girl. Blaine rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'll go talk to her."

"No." Kurt stood up. "I will."

Distinct sobbing could be heard from Kellie's closed bedroom door. "Hon?" Kurt asked as he knocked gently on the door. "Can I come in?"

Taking the silence as a yes, Kurt pushed open the door. His daughter, honey-colored hair fanned out on the pillow and hazel eyes red-rimmed, sniffled as she caught sight of him.

"Oh, dad!" She catapulted her slender body into his arms and resumed crying.

Kurt stroked her hair, his heart breaking. "What happened? Did Charlie do something to you? Do we need to call the police?"

"No," she croaked. "He just - we were at the movies and this girl came in and...Oh, dad, he was _cheating _on me. And when I asked him why, he said because I wasn't pretty enough."

Kurt could feel the disgust rising in his chest. His daughter was gorgeous! Afterall, she looked just like him. "Then he's a son of a bitch, Kel."

Kellie flinched at her father's harsh words. "Any man that can't see your outter - an inner - beauty is a fool. Then again, lovely, those are high school boys for you; ignorant, bossy, sex-obsessed. I don't want you to spend your tears on Charlie. He's an idiot and you deserve better." He hooked a finger beneath her chin. "Much, much better."

"W-What if," said Kellie, looking down, "I never find true love? What if I'm stuck an old widow forever?"

"That's won't happen because you're beautiful, smart, sassy...You have a great personality. You'll find true love sweetie, I promise. You're only fifteen. There's somebody out there for everybody," Kurt assured her. "But in the case that you don't find anyone you like, you can always stay home with your fathers and take care of us."

Kellie laughed. "Uh, no thanks."

Kurt grinned, kissing her forehead. "We love you."

"I love you, too."

Kurt stood up, smiling down at his daughter and left the room. Downstairs, Blaine stared at him widely. "What did that bastard do to her?"

"Just faltered her confidence. Don't worry, she's done with him." Kurt sat down in his lap, kissing him tenderly.

"You work magic, Kurt, I swear."

Kurt tossed his head back smuggly. "I know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Father-daughter moments.

Love,

Lexi


	23. Memories

**A/N: **This is sad. Very sad. Ready...Aim...Tissues!

**Chapter Rating: **Appropriate for everybody

**Dis**laimer**: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Memories: <span>

He remembered their past times as if they had occurred just this morning.

Medium drips. Strawberry syrup. Stray pennies tossed into fountains. Rollercoasters. Late night movie marathons. Heated drives downtown. Scarf shopping. Christmas morning. Sleepy afternoons. Shopping for new sweaters.

...And then there were the bad ones. One in particular had glued itself to Kurt's mind.

_"Kurt, please pick up. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry and I really miss you. Call me." _

_"Kurt? Please, please pick up. I miss the charming tranquility of your voice..." _

_Cheesy, Kurt thought with a chuckle as he clicked through the messages on his phone. All from Blaine. They had a fight; something that had been locked inside them, just waiting to erupt. And when it did, it was awful, leaving both boys in tears. _

_It was time to make up. Kurt dialled his boyfriend's number, pressing the cool phone to his ear as the tone rang clearly. "Hello?" Blaine asked from the other end._

_"H-Hey. It's Kurt." _

_"Kurt! Kurt? Kurt, thank God. I was worried," he breathed. "I'm so sorry..."_

_"Are we over, I mean...Are we still dating?" Kurt choked out, tears sparking the corners of his eyes._

_"Kurt, listen to me. I love you." Kurt's heart thumped passionately in his chest as he gripped the phone for all it was worth. "I've loved you from the moment I first saw you and I know I'll love you forever. Part of the consequences that come with love are fights. Every couple fights, in fact, you should be worried about the ones that don't. All that tension just piling up inside, unable to be released. We solved our issues, hon, and now we're stronger."_

_Kurt sniffled. "God, Blaine, I love you." _

No matter how much he was hurting, Blaine made everything better.

_"Ah! Blaineeee!" Kurt shrieked, lurching as the doctor pried his swollen, purpling arm away from his chest. Kurt had fallen and broken his arm at the ice rink, Blaine had driven him here._

_"We're going to need to set it," said the doctor. _

_"W-What?" Kurt cried, the tear tracks glittering on his porcelain cheeks. "N-No!" _

_Blaine nuzzled his neck tenderly. "Just close your eyes and it'll be over soon, baby," he whispered. _

_Trembling, Kurt leaned against his boyfriend. "Blaine. Blaine." _

_"I'm here, love. I'm here." _

Blaine could make him smile in the worst of times.

_"Blaine, he did it again. Blaine, he p-pushed me into another locker," Kurt wept into his hands. _

_Blaine lacedh his fingers with Kurt's. "I know it hurts now, angel, but we've got eachother. Karofsky's got nobody. When high school's over and that son of a bitch finally opens his eyes, he'll have nothing to work for. Hell, babe, he'll be sewing close for Marc Jacobs."_

_Kurt laughed. "He's a jock. He doesn't sew, Blaine."_

_The curly-haired man leaned forward and crashed their lips together. "I know. But I also knew that'd make you smile."_

Blaine was Kurt's missing piece; his shining sun, his light, his soulmate...His everything. And that was why Kurt stepped forward that fine sunny day, up to the large silver stone and unfolded the sweaty shred of paper in his hand.

A sob rose in his throat, but he choked it down. "Blaine Everette Anderson, I've wanted to ask you this question for - for ages." He slipped the velvet box from his hand, kneeling down. "Blaine Everette Anderson, will you marry me?"

Only the whistling of the wind and chirping birds fill the air. Kurt's tears splattered his suit. "O-Okay." He climbed to his feet, plucking the silver band out of it's box and sliding it onto the slender, limp finger of his lover.

"You get ready, wherever you are. And one day, I'll join you. And then we'll have the best w-w-wedding ever. I l-love you," he croaked.

With that, Kurt Hummel turned on his heel and strode away, shaking so hard he felt like he was going to fall apart. His heart had been split when he had recieved the news. It was unrepairable.

Kurt Hummel turned back, blowing a silent kiss to the grave of Blaine Anderson.

_And I'll be waiting,_ Blaine's spirit yearned to say as he watched down from heaven. _I love you, too._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **God, that was hard to write. Thoughts?

Love,

Lexi


	24. Sick

**A/N: **Awww! You guys, I am simply moved by your lovely reviews :)

_Starkidgleek0502, _thank you sooo much for challenging me! Hell yeah! Thirty-five by Friday! Wooo! Any prompts?

I understand last chapter was sad and I'm sorry. I was watching _LOST _and my favorite character died, so I was a little down. Anyways, this one is perhaps a bit happier :)

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>Sick: <span>

"Ughhh," moaned Kurt, rolling over restlessly in their bed. He curled up in a ball, frantic to make the pain in his stomach stop.

Blaine blinked awake, staring over at the alarm clock. Five fucking in the morning. He turned over to face his husband. "Kurt, baby, what's the matter?"

Kurt wiped the sweat from his forehead. "N-Nothing. I'm fine. Sorry I woke you, I'll go."

"No, no," Blaine said. "Honey, are you sick? You're pale."

Kurt stiffled another groan. "I'm...okay. Please just go back to sleep."

Kurt hated being sick. Sure, he rarely ever became ill, but when he did it was beyond awful. He preferred to be left alone; not bothered by anyone. But Blaine loved to baby his husband.

"What is it? Do I need to get some ibuprofen or pepto?" Blaine asked, rubbing his shoulders gently.

"P-Pepto, please," whimpered Kurt.

"Okay, babe, I'll be back." Blaine lugged his exhausted body out of bed and ajourned to the kitchen. He wasn't suprised to find Kurt vomiting in the toilet when he came back.

He knelt, massaging circles between his shoulder blades. "Shh. It's okay."

"P-Please go," Kurt gasped as he heaved.

"I'm not going anywhere," promised Blaine.

When Kurt could finally halt his dry-heaving, he allowed Blaine to help him back to bed. Kurt swallowed the awful pink liquid, also gulping down water, and settled back to watch _Hairspray _circa. 1988.

"You'd better get to work," Kurt said.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "And leave you here? I think not."

"Then you'll get sick, too," snapped Kurt.

"And then we can finally finish the seasons of _Star Trek_," Blaine chuckled.

"Ugh. No way. It's either _Hairspray_ or _The Last Song._ You're choice," Kurt snuggled down between their satin sheets, enjoying the warmth of Blaine's toned body. "I'm glad you stayed," he murmured.

"What was that?" teased Blaine. "I thought you didn't like to be held while you're sick, dearest."

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Ewww!" Blaine commented. "Not until you brush your teeth."

But he kissed him anyways.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I hate being held when I'm sick and Kurt just seems like he'd despise it, too. Prompts por favor!

Love,

Lexi


	25. Black Eye

**A/N: **Wooo! I got some prompts! I am happy :D

This was prompted by _starkidgleek0502, _who wanted Blaine to get angry. Grrr. Mad-ass!Blaine. They're at the Lima Bean and Karofsky's been bitchy again. Set back before Kurt and Blaine were dating.

**Chapter Rating:** Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Black Eye: <span>

Kurt had a black eye. A _black eye. _Why the hell did Kurt have a black eye?

"H-Hey," Kurt said, looking down awkwardly at his coffee cup.

Blaine grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, staring with concern into his blue-rimmed eyes. "What happened?"

"N-Nothing...I ran into a pole."

"A pole?" scoffed Blaine. "You've got to be kidding me. _What happened?" _

Kurt blinked back tears. "Karofsky," he whispered. "He hit me."

_Well, chop off my balls and call me a woman, _thought Blaine. _Suprise, suprise. _"Why? Why, Kurt?"

The brunette collapsed into the chairs at their usual table. "I don't know," he muttered. "Because I'm gay. Because I'm different."

Blaine's heart seemed to shatter in his chest. He sat down, taking Kurt's hand gingerly. "That makes him all the more ordinary. I'm sorry this had to happen to you."

Kurt wiped his eyes on a napkin, blushing. "Thanks."

Blaine looked up to spot a buff, football uniform-clad teenager striding into the cafe. "Speak of the devil," he snarled, climbing to his feet.

"No!" called Kurt, yanking on the sleeve of his blazer. "Blaine, just leave it."

But it was too late. Blaine angrily walked up to Karofsky, hesitating at the height difference. He pointed an accusing finger to Karofsky's chest, the fire of his fury boiling through his mouth. "What the hell is your problem?" he hissed.

Karofsky sneered down at him. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the little faggy hobbit. Where's your _boyfriend?" _

Blaine brushed aside his comment. "Why do you go around bashing other people? Is it because you've got a secret of your own?" He looked pointedly at the jocks behind him.

Karofsky's gaze narrowed. "Shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you, fag."

Blaine shoved him back, earning a squeal behind him from Kurt. Karofsky pushed him so hard he fell back into another table, sprawling over it. "Blaine!" screamed Kurt, kneeling down beside him.

Blaine blinked the salt from his eyes. "Let's go," he growled, pulling Kurt up with him and they exited.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," Blaine said. "He's a jerk."

"Yeah, he is. But just because he's being an ass doesn't mean you can act like one, too. He's scared and insecure and for some sick reason, he thinks it's okay to harm others. I understand that he's frightened with these new feelings he's experiencing. And if we give him a little time...He'll come around." Kurt tenderly touched his black eye.

Blaine smiled. "Your heart is kind, Kurt. A kind heart can get you everywhere."

With that, the two boys strolled down the avenue to their cars parked on the block. Blaine felt a sense of pride for his friend, while Kurt was screaming inside.

_Blaine said I have a kind heart! _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Ten more to go! :)

Love,

Lexi


	26. Broadway or Bust

**A/N: **SEX!...Now that that's out of my system...

This was also prompted by _starkidgleek0502. "Kurt wants to follow his dream...Will Blaine come along?" _I don't know, will he? MUAHAHAHA!

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language and sex implications *candlestick, skip past if you don't like*

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Broadway or Bust: <span>

Kurt folded the last of his clothes, placing them carefully in his suitcase. Tomorrow he was leaving. Lima, Ohio had been a good town while he was here. Sure, this was the birthplace of his problems, Karofsky was here, his mom had died...Hell, this was the most awful fucking town in the universe and he was so happy to finally be leaving.

His father had made him promise to call everyday. Carole had given him kisses and a camera. "Email me pictures, okay, lovey?" Finn had awkwardly patted his back. "Uh, be careful?"

There was nothing left for him in Lima. Rachel was coming with him, Mercedes would be attending NYU with him...Blaine would be...would be...

He wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve. That chapter of his life was closed. Kurt had told Blaine where he was going and Blaine said he couldn't go with him. They were...over.

Kurt ajourned to his bed, plucking his mousturizer bag off and putting it by his door. The numbers on his phone flashed 11:49pm. In a few short hours, he would be on a plane to New York. _New fucking York. _

He glanced down at the check list imprinted on the "notebook" of his iPhone. _Clothes (underwear). _Check. _Hair products. _Check. _Mousturizers. _Check, thank God. _Bed sheets. _Check; there was no way Kurt Hummel was ever going to sleep in a fucking hotel room with fucking bed sheets that everyone has slept on...Probably dirty old men and prostitutes, too. _Playbooks. _Check. _Toiletries. _Yup. _Photo album. _Check...Thanks, Carole. _Shoebox. _

Kurt looked away stiffly. On his desk, still opened, was the shoebox. _Their _shoebox. It was silly, he knew, but it was significant. His eyes glazed over with tears as he inspected the contents.

A shiny, blue button. _"I told you not to touch my Marc Jacobs trench," snapped Kurt, adjusting the caramel-colored lapel and smoothing the bright blue buttons. "Sorry, babe," Blaine replied, pecking him apologetically. "How much did you say this thing was?" Kurt watched him pointedly. "Around four thousand, Blaine. Four thousand." "Holy shit!" commented his boyfriend. "That's a lot. Are you sure it's worth it?" With that, the shorter male leaned forward and fingered one of the buttons. "These could be cheap, for all you-" The button came off in his hand, looking terribly small and gloomy in his palm._

A single, dried, pressed rose petal. _"Why are we pressing them? This is pointless," Kurt sighed. "It's not pointless. They're little memories, captured inside of each velvet, bloody petal; memories we can keep forever," __Blaine said, looking up with shiny eyes._

A golden star sticker. _"This, my dear, is for you." Blaine placed the sticker onto Kurt's sweater. "Oh, my God!" Kurt shrieked. "It's going to tear the threads." "Threads, my ass. You deserve it. You're my little, golden, shining star," Blaine countered. _

A marble, the colors yellow and green frozen inside. _"I don't like the game of marbles. It's childish," Kurt groaned as Blaine emptied his bag of marbles onto the concrete of his driveway. "Au contraire, lovely. It's fun." Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's simple and stupid." "I'm simple, and some would say I'm stupid," Blaine said, peering up at his boyfriend through his eyelashes. "Yes," Kurt mumbled, "but I love _you."

A baby shoe, pink and glinting in the light from his lamp. _"Ooh, Blaine, look at all the baby clothes. They're so tiny and cute," Kurt squealed, clutching Blaine's arm. "Indeed," the curly-haired man deadtoned. "Wouldn't it be great if we could start our own family? Have little kids galloping around?" Kurt said softly. Blaine chuckled, reaching forward and plucking a little girl's tap shoe off the shelf. "Here, I'll buy this for you. It'll be a promise that one day we will start our own family." _

A candlestick. _"Oh, God, that was amazing," Kurt breathed as he stared at the dimly lit candles surrounding them. Their naked bodies are slick with sweat. "I know," Blaine whispered in his ear. "_You_ are amazing." _

The ticket stump to a Katy Perry concert. _"Who sings it better?" screamed Blaine over the sound of the music blaring from onstage and the shrieks of fans around them. "Me or Katy Perry?" Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "You mean in terms of 'Teenage Dream'? Mmm...That's a toughie." Blaine grimaced. Kurt laughed. "But I have to say you. Hands down." _

The final item seemed to leer over Kurt, consuming him with painful memories. A New York snowglobe. _"I have to go," Kurt cried, waving his arms around for emphasis. "I have to! It's my dream!" "I know," Blaine said. "But I want you to stay." "Come with me," Kurt begged, taking his hands. "Please." "You know I can't," Blaine replied. "I'm going to Lima College. That's my future." Kurt wiped the corners of his eyes hastily. "I-I'll call everyday." "No, you won't," snapped Blaine. "You'll be too absorbed in your New York life." Kurt dug in his pocket, holding up a New York snowglobe. "Take this then, to remember where I am." "No thanks. I don't want it."_

Kurt slammed the lid of the shoebox closed, piling it on top of the other baggages. Check. Oh, fucking check. Why is love so painful? Why?

The brunette collapsed on the satins of his bed, releasing a shuddered sigh. Wait. What was that? "Goddamnit, Finn!" he called. "Stop-" Where was that coming from? And why now, of all times?

"_You make me feel like I'm livin' a...Teeeennnage dreaammm! The way you turn me on...I can't sleeeep! Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back..." _

He knew that voice. He stumbled over to his window, throwing apart the curtains and staring frantically down into their backyard. Blaine. Blaine? Blaine!

Kurt opened his window, watching as his ex strummed the guitar and shamelessly belted out the lyrics he knew so well.

"_My heart stops...When you look at me...Just one touch...Now, baby, I believe...This is real!" _Blaine sang.

Kurt sniffled. "What're you doing?" he yelled down. "Blaine, it's nearly midnight and I've got to - got to go tomorrow."

Blaine looked up. "I know, and I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was so wrong." He fisted a hand in his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. "I got this."

"What is it?" Kurt asked, peering closer.

"A ticket to New York."

"What?" Kurt screamed. "Oh, Blaine! What about your dream?"

"My dream is _you, _Kurt, not some stupid college here in Lima. I want to be with you, go wherever you go. As long as you'll have me," Blaine said.

"Of course! Of course, of course, of course! Why don't you come up h-here?" Kurt suggested, glowing with happiness.

"Okay."

Kurt began to close the window, when the soultry voice halted him.

"And Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Sort of revisits the chapter: Memories. I hope this was to your liking, _starkid. _:) Fluff! Wooo-hoooo!

Love,

Lexi


	27. Shotguns

**A/N: **More prompts, please! :D

This one was prompted by _KlaineLuneville: "Klaine's daughter gets a boyfriend..."_

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language and the shitty "overprotective" father stuff that we all hate

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>Shotguns: <span>

"Hey, dads?" Nova's soft voice asked as she entered the room, nervously sliding one of her honey-golden locks behind her ear.

Blaine muted the TV, turning to face his fourteen year old daughter. "Yes, sweetheart?" Kurt's legs were across his, eyes equally inquistive.

"C-Can I have a friend over for dinner tonight?" she wanted to know.

Kurt shrugged. "Who is it? Is it Lucy again? Or Aly?"

"Uh, no. It's a new friend," Nova said quietly.

"Alright," Blaine replied easily. "Just make sure that your brother knows, too, so he doesn't come down to dinner in his underwear again. He seems so intent on doing just that lately."

"It's a phase, Blaine, it'll pass."

"What?" said Blaine. "I never came down in my underwear..."

Nova exited, chuckling to herself.

* * *

><p>"When's your friend going to be here?" Kurt demanded as he rounded the table, placing china dishes on each placemat.<p>

Nova shrugged, positioning the forks and spoons. "Um, soon, I suppose."

"Tell me about her. Is she in one of your classes?"

"It's not a-" began Nova, inturrupted by the sudden chime of the doorbell.

Nova's silverware clattered to the floor as she raced to answer the door. Blaine stood in the entryway, gawking. "Wait, you're here to see _who?" _

Her heart pounded in her chest. A boy stood in the doorway: Boone Grace. Her boyfriend. The guy she had invited over for dinner. "Dad," she said softly, pulling on his shoulder. "Boone's here for dinner."

"To hell, he's not," snarled Blaine. "You're not allowed to date."

"Yes, I am!" Nova yelled, flushing with embarrassment. "James was allowed to date when he was a freshman!"

Kurt and James, Nova's sixteen year old brother, came up behind them. "What's going on?" murmured Kurt, watching with wide eyes.

Blaine was livid. "Nova invited a _guy _over for dinner!" he cried.

Boone shuffled awkwardly. "I can...I can go..."

"Go? Is that Teenager for 'climb in through Nova's window later and fucking moleste her'?" Blaine snapped.

Nova screamed. "Dad! Stop it! He's not going to do that!"

Kurt laid a tentative hand on his husband's shoulder. "Honey, let him come in. Boone, I'm sorry for my husband's behavior...He's never been exposed to, you know..."

"Uh, yeah, It's cool," Boone croaked.

"Come in, Boone," Nova said.

"Step inside and I'll shoot you!" warned Blaine. "I will! I've got a shotgun underneath the stairs!"

James rolled his eyes, nodding to Boone. "He doesn't have a shotgun. He's passive."

"Passive, my ass!"

"Blaine!" shouted Kurt. "Let him come in! Boone, I am so sorry."

"You know what? I forgot I have to do something..." Boone murmured. "See you later, Nova...Or not."

"Dad!" wailed the brunette, turning on her heel and racing up the stairs. "Fuck you!"

* * *

><p>"Why'd you do that?" Kurt asked later that night in bed.<p>

"She's my baby," whimpered Blaine. "And I don't want to give her up that easy. Who knows what kind of stuff they'd be doing in her bed..."

"Blaine," drawled Kurt. "You never had this problem with James. Why now?"

"Because I know teenage boys. They're sex-centered," Blaine growled. "Nova's too innocent."

"You need to give her a chance. She's smart enough to know the difference between rape and fun. Come on, sweetheart."

"Fine. Whatever. But if she ends up pregnant, it's on you."

"And shotgun, really? Shotgun?"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **That was just a bit of pointless humor. My dad did this for my older sister, I remember. And we did have a shotgun! :0

Love,

Lexi


	28. Final Farewell

**A/N: **Okay. I've got four hours to do this, people! I'm setting a personal goal of four chapters, based on the challenge for thirty-five by tomorrow. Wooo! We can do it! XD

This was prompted by _Katerina4life: "Flashbacks when they are old men." _So I took this spider and spun a web (where the hell did that come from? I am unpredictable), making it very sad D: and a bit flufferish, hopefully. Enjoy?

**Chapter Rating: **Just get a box of tissues.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _Seemingly, however, I somehow own this spiderweb (seriously, what the fuck am I saying?)

* * *

><p><span>Final Farewell: <span>

The creak of the rickety porch swing floated through the otherwise peaceful air. The weeping willows' swaying their branches over the perfectly manicured lawn of Blaine and Kurt Hummel-Anderson.

Kurt's hair, no matter how many times he had attempted to dye it, was streaked with gray, now fashioned in the incredibly cliche "Elvis" style. His blue-green eyes were lively, despite his aged appearance. He looked signifancantly less old, as the many years - and hours - spent in his mousiturizing routine.

Blaine's head of curls remained ebony as ever - much to Kurt's dismay. His hazel eyes were rimmed with sagging wrinkles and purple spots, implying the many years of hard work in his father's mill.

"Blaine." Kurt's tone was weary and chipped with disuse. He held out a bony hand, lacing his fingers with his husband's. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Blaine nodded happily, staring up in adoration. "How could I forget, my dear." He pressed his lips to their interlocked knuckles. "In the hallways of Dalton Academy, just before our Warbler performance. You were spying..."

Kurt blinked. "That was one of the best days of my life. Save, of course, for our wedding. Do you recall it?"

"It was June fourteenth, in a rented gazeibo by that crystal lake. You were wearing that suit that fit you in all the right places, and that magnificent blue sash that reflected the shimmering water," Blaine muttered.

Silence, in which both men were overcome with strange sensations of...elevation. "Blaine?"

"I'm here, love," Blaine replied gently. "Perhaps it is our old minds playing tricks. Is that - Kurt, is that my _parents?" _His gaze was latched onto the cloudless sky.

Kurt shook his head. "That's my mother, right there! And my dad...And Carole! Blaine, what's going on?"

"My parents are dead," Blaine whispered. "Am I feverish?"

"If you are, then I am, too," Kurt said. "I see a meadow...There are posies...Oh, Blaine, posies are _our _flower."

"It looks so serene up there. Can we go there, Kurt?" Was there a dash of Blaine's livid puppy days in his words.

"I feel like it's our...time...And there's nothing we can do to stop it. Blaine, I'm frightened."

Blaine kissed his husband tenderly. "What are you frightened of? Suppose there is a heaven, suppose there is a hell. You'd go to heaven, hands down. You're charming, intelligant, sassy, beautiful...The list goes on and on. I'll be with you every step of the way," the curly-haired man promised.

Kurt nodded tentatively. "Wherever we go, I want you to know that I love you. And I couldn't have picked a better man to spend my entire life with. I love you, Blaine."

"I love you, too, sweetie."

The bodies of the men, limpened, pulses halting along with their love-engorged hearts. Their souls, however, journeyed into the next land. They didn't know where, why, or how they had gotten there, but they had been placed in the all-too familiar seventeen-year-old bodies.

Their parents were there. It was quiet and gorgeous. They realized they didn't care anymore. They wanted to enjoy the serendipity.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I started this at 7:04pm and it is now 7:30. Holy. Hell. I can do this...Shit, can I do this?

Love,

Lexi


	29. Push It, Single Lady

**A/N: **Okay. This was prompted by _Mrs ColferCriss, _who wanted Kurt in the kitchen making breakfast. :D

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee, _or Kurt's sexy-as-hell dance featured in this chapter.

* * *

><p><span>Push It, Single Lady: <span>

Kurt wanted to do something nice for Blaine. Weekdays were hectic, Blaine having just started a job at the local music store and needed to leave around five every morning to set up. Weekends were his break.

Kurt slid out of bed, glancing at the clock, and flopped to the door. Looking back, he grinned at his softly snoring husband, a mop of curls above the satin sheets.

The kitchen basked in the golden morning light as Kurt flickered on the radio. He dug a pan out of the cupboard and eggs out of the refridgerator.

_What the hell? _Blaine thought sleepily as faint music bubbled into their bedroom.

_"All the single ladies! All the single ladies! All the single ladies - ya putcha hands up!" _

Blaine yawned, sliding out of bed groggily and slipping on the cliche bunny slippers Kurt had begged him not to purchase. "Kurt?" he called, rubbing his eyes while padding down the hall. "Kur-" _Oh, my God. ..._

Kurt was wearing nothing but boxers, his slender, toned chest shimmering with grease from the bacon. His hips moved at a rapid pace as he sauntered around, flipping pancakes in sync to the song.

Blaine's eyes narrowed, he leaned against the counter for support. Holy _shit._

_"If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it! Don't be mad if ya see that he want it! Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh!" _Kurt was staring happily at their wedding ring on his finger, still continuing the hot dance moves.

"_Oohhhh!" _The song came to an end, much to Blaine's - and little Blaine (if you catch my drift) - dismay. He stepped forward, ready to alert his husband of his arrival.

Kurt cracked two eggs in the pan. Another song came on and he danced equally arousingly. "_Salt and Pepa's here, and we in effect, want you to push it, babe. Coolin' by day, then at night, working up a sweat!" _

Blaine's jaw dropped. Kurt began humping an invisible man to the song. "_Ah! Push it...Push it good! Ah! Push it! Push it real good!" _

Blaine whined. Kurt froze. He spun around, flour spraying everywhere. "Kurt," he hissed. "That was...Where did you..."

Kurt blushed. "Glee club, where else?"

"Holy fuck," Blaine cursed. "Come here."

"Breakfast!" Kurt cried.

"Sex!" Blaine countered.

Kurt weighed his options. "Fine. You should be proud that I find sex more important than food."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I see a pattern here. Started: 7:35. Ended: 8:03. Oh, damn me.

Love,

Lexi

P.S. _AH! PUSH IT! PUSH IT GOOD!..._Kurt slaps Finn's ass...


	30. Sweeter Dreams

**A/N: **There's a turtle in my chicken soup...That is all.

**Chapter Rating: **K+ for mention of men particles

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Sweeter Dreams: <span>

It was early in the morning. Sunlight filtered through the blinds on the far walls, throwing the room into a golden world. Blaine was propped up on his elbows, just simply staring at his boyfriend.

Kurt was attractive. It was that plain. He had the muscular body, the intrucaite eyes. But to Blaine, Kurt was outright gorgeous. He had long eyelashes that brushed over his flawless, porcelain cheeks.

His nose was button-cute, perfect for quick kisses between afternoon classes. His chin wrinkled up when he was trying to convince Blaine to do something. Kurt got freckles in the sun.

There was a dark dot beneath his jaw, the only blemish to ever cross his skin, Kurt called it. Blaine called it an angel kiss. Kurt's collarbone jutted out, an acute trait to mystify the onlooker, tempting them to look further.

His chest was toned, a slim set of abs on either side of his ribcage. Kurt's tits were pointed, puckered and pink, something Blaine loved to pay attention to during intercourse.

His stomach was flat, marked with a v-line that lead beneath his briefs. His legs were long, surely a turn-on when he was in his swimsuit.

Blaine wouldn't care less if Kurt was fat, if Kurt was anorexically-thin, it didn't matter to him. What was on the inside truly transfixed him.

Kurt stirred, yawning and rolling over to face his boyfriend. "Morning," he mumbled.

Blaine kissed him tenderly. "Good morning, beautiful."

Kurt grinned. And that grin didn't leave his face for the rest of the day. The right greeting in the morning can do a lot for a person.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Woo, fluffy! :D One more and it's 8:30.

Love,

Lexi


	31. Fix You

**A/N: **THANK YOU _KATERINA4LIFE! _YOU'RE A LIFE SAVER! I needed a prompt so bad :) I hope this meets your standards. They're at Dalton and just started going out.

**Chapter Rating: **Although this is appropriate for everyone, I wouldn't let your two month old infant read it...Yeah...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee _or the _Fix You _song by _Coldplay._

* * *

><p><span>Fix You:<span>

"Blaine," Kurt rasped into the phone, clutching it with white knuckles.

"Yeah? Kurt? Are you okay?" Blaine cried.

Kurt closed his eyes. This was a bad idea. "Blaine...This is going to sound incredibly clingy and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you or anything, but I need...Can you just come over? Please?"

Blaine yawned on the other end. "Sure. I'll be there in five."

Kurt hung up, slowly lowering the mobile device and gingerly placing it on his bedside table. His dorm room was lit only by the flickering candles in every corner of the room. He had built a shrine, rose petals surrounding a single aged photograph.

A knock on the door roused him from his memories and he stumbled to answer it. Blaine's curls stuck up every-which-way, his baggy striped pants and t-shirt. "Kurt?" he asked blearily.

Kurt sniffled softly and Blaine's expression morphed into one of deeper concern. "What's the matter? Oh, God, is it Karofsky again?"

"N-No. Come in." Kurt stepped aside, and that's when his boyfriend caught sight of the picture. Blaine froze.

"Kurt," he whispered. "Is that...?"

"Yeah," mumbled the brunette, once more kneeling in front of the photo. "That's my mom."

Blaine sat down beside him, awkwardly taking his hand. "Did she...Did she die today?" he asked tentatively.

Kurt swiped his swollen eyes. "Yeah...Eight years ago. I'm sorry I called you - I know it's late. I just needed company."

"I understand," Blaine said. "What was she like?"

Kurt tilted his head up to the ceiling, begging the flow of tears to stop. "Her n-name was Elizabeth and she was..."

"Pretty," Blaine suggested, peering closely at the yellow-edged photo. Like Kurt, she had caramel-colored hair and big blue-green eyes. Her high cheekbones and pursed rose lips made her resemble a professional model. "She's beautiful."

This snatched a feeble grin from Kurt. "Yes, she is. I remember, when I was little, how she would always comfort me when I could come home crying from school. She knew I was gay even before I did. And she didn't care," he told Blaine.

Blaine nodded, whisking an arm around his shoulders. "When I found out she had been...had been subject to a hit-and-run...I-I..."

"Shhh," Blaine murmured as Kurt released a sob and buried himself in Blaine's side. "I know it hurts, sweetie. I know."

Kurt felt like he was drowning in a world of dismay. His ears were stuffed with cotton, his body racked with confined sobs. And then, like a shining white light, a dapper voice broke through...

"_When you try your best, but don't succeed...When you get what you want, but not what you need...When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep...Stuck in reverse." _He cupped Kurt's face, pulling it toward his. He stroked his thumb over Kurt's tear tracks. "_And the tears come streaming down your face...When you loose something you can't replace...When you love somebody but it goes to waste...Could it be worse?" _

Kurt offered a watery smile. "_Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones! And I will try to...fix you." _

Blaine smiled widely, finished the last ling with vengeance. _"And I will...fix you." _

His lips collided with Kurt's and all of a sudden, his saddness disappeared and he lost himself in the glorious sensation of Blaine's lips.

They pulled apart, panting. "Thanks," Kurt said, leaning into his embrace.

Blaine kissed the top of his head. "You needed it."

Kurt realized that having somebody to mourn right beside him lessened the pain. And maybe, just maybe, that second kiss was better then the first.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thirty-one, baby! Yay :D I'm going to go watch _Friends _now. Thanks guys!

Love,

Lexi


	32. LongLost Language of Love

**A/N: **Prompts, I beg of you! My fucking computer crashed today, so I couldn't work on my chapters. Damn you, irony.

Thirty-five, you will be the death of me.

**Chapter Rating: **Appropriate for everyone.

**Disclaimer: **I hate writing this thing :|

* * *

><p><span>Long-Lost Language of Love: <span>

Honey-golden light from bedside lamp illuminated the couple's cramped bedroom. Kurt was propped up by his elbows, a book positioned on his feather pillow. Blaine's face was nestled in Kurt's side. The whole scene was serene; a perfect evening at home.

Suddenly, Kurt gasped, sitting up, his green-blue eyes hastily skimming over the page. "Oh, Blaine! Blaine, look at his!" he cried.

Blaine rubbed his eyes blearily. "Mmm?"

Kurt grinned. "The long-lost language of love! 'In the Victorian-era means of communication in which various flowers and floral arrangements were used to send coded messages, allowing individuals to express feelings which otherwise could not be spoken.' They used flowers to express their love...Aww."

"Cool," yawned Blaine.

"An amaranth means immortal love. An arbutus means 'you're the only one I love'. A red carnation means deep, romantic, passionate love. Hibuscus means 'you're my rare beauty'. White lilacs represent youthful innocence and memories. Mallows mean 'consumed by love'. Red roses are...true love. That's so sweet," cooed Kurt, tracing the frail edge of the page.

Blaine smiled sleepily. "That's all pleasant, but baby, I've got to work tomorrow. Mind if I turn in?"

"Not at all," mumbled Kurt, bookmarking his novel and placing it on their nightstand. He flipped off the light. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>Kurt absently rolled over onto Blaine's side of the bed, searching for the familiar warm body. "Blaine?" he groaned, sitting up slowly. <em>What is that smell? <em>

He stumbled from their room, blindly entering the living space. "Blaine? Hon?"

"In here, Kurt," Blaine called.

With one last sigh, Kurt opened his eyes...and shrieked. The whole living room was overflowing with flowers. Kurt dashed over to several bouqets of slim, purple flowers. "Amaranths," he whispered. "Immortal love..."

"Arbutus!" he squealed, fingering one of the petals. "You're the only one I love...Red carnations, passionate love...Hibuscus, you're my rare beauty...White lilacs, mallows..." Kurt's eyes filled with tears as he turned and faced Blaine.

Blaine grinned sheepishly, holding out a single rose. "And red roses...true love, am I right?"

Kurt threw himself at his boyfriend. "Oh, Blaine...Oh, Blaine."

"I love you!" Blaine croaked.

"And I love you...So, so much," Kurt replied.

*****Uncountable Years Later*****

Many people wondered that day why Blaine supported such an ugly, assorted array of flowers. They stood back with red-rimmed eyes, watching as the elderly man wobbled forward and dropped the bouqet onto the casket of Kurt Anderson-Hummel.

There was an amaranth, an arbutus, a red carnation, a hibuscus, a white lilac, a mallow and a rose...To the average onlooker, they may have appeared to be nothing more than pretty flowers.

But to Blaine and Kurt, they were tokens of beautiful, rare, innocent, memorial, true and immortal love.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The part where Kurt quotes from the "book" was used on Wikipedia . com. Yay Wiki! Prompts!

Love,

Lexi


	33. Three, Two, One

**A/N: **Two more to go...Yay :) I'm not going to be able to post tomorrow, because it'll be New Year's Eve and I'll be out partying my ass off. So, here is a chapter about the new year and what it brings.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Three, Two, One: <span>

"Five..." the whole room quieted down to count along with the T.V.

_"Tell me five things you love about me," Kurt said softly, gaze focused on the clear blue sky. _

_Blaine smiled, tracing the pattern in the blanket they laid on. "Okay...For starters, I love your eyes. They're the prettiest things I have ever seen. A gorgeous turquoise shade, so full of emotion. I swear I could fall into them, they're so deep."_

_"Really?" _

_"Really. I love your smile. Sometimes it's sheepish, sometimes it's bitchy, sometimes it's a smirk. I love all of them. They make my heart do cart-wheels in my chest, and frankly, I don't know how to do a cart-wheel," Blaine said._

_Kurt chuckled. _

_"There it is! This is going to sound creepy," Blaine admitted, "but I simply adore your belly-button. It's so cute and small and secretive..." _

_Kurt laughed loudly. "My _belly-button?"

_"Of course. But I also love your nose...It's like a little dallop of cream settled on the middle of your face...Oh, and the way your chin crinkles up when you're mad...And the way you're sassy...And the way you pay so much attention to fashion...And the way-" _

_"I said five things," Kurt whispered. "You really love all those?" _

_"Every single one, and more." _

"Four..."

_"Never have I ever...been to Disneyland!" exclaimed Blaine, holding up his three fingers triumphantly._

_Kurt rolled his eyes. "I've never been to Disneyland. It's a place designed to spoil the foolish minds of young children with talking mice and dancing ducks with attitude."_

_Blaine giggled. "Sure, but it's a hell lotta fun. I've been four times. You've got to come with me the next time! I looooove it there!" _

_At that exact moment, Kurt thought Blaine resembled a puppy so much that he couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, fine. But if my brain turns to mush, it's on you."_

"Three..."

_"Do you know how many times I've kissed you in the past minute?" Blaine asked, leaning back in his chair. _

_Kurt smirked. "Let me guess...A billion?" _

_"Three," he replied smoothly. "Three's a lucky number."_

_"Sure it is. But four's even better," Kurt said, leaning in for another sweet kiss._

"Two..."

_"Two more fucking hours until I can get the hell out of here," Kurt mumbled, gripping the plastic chair with white knuckles. _

_"Hey, hey," Blaine said, cupping his chin and turning Kurt's face to his. "Two hours isn't that long. We can play some games."_

_Kurt's eyes filled momentarily with tears. "I guess...I guess spending two hours at the doctor's with your boyfriend can't be that bad."_

"One..."

The ball dropped from the Empire State Building on the T.V. and the whole room exploded with cheers. People clapped eachother on the back, spraying achohol everywhere.

"Kurt," Blaine murmured into the ear of his boyfriend. "Come outside with me for a minute."

Outside on the deck, the air was cool. Kurt was flushed and laughing. Blaine took his hand, kissing him tenderly. "Happy New Year, darling."

"Happy New Year. Oh, doesn't Lima look lovely from here?" He leaned against the railing. "Everything's so sparkly and- OH MY GOD!"

Blaine was kneeling, holding up a velvet box. "Kurt..."

Kurt squealed. "Yes?"

"This past year with you has been one of the best of my life...And I want to spend more with you - hell, I want to be with you forever. Kurt Hummel, will you marry me?" Blaine asked.

"Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I seem to have a distinct enjoyment for writing about flashbacks...and death. I hope you don't mind! Hell, I'm weird. Prompts?

Love,

Lexi


	34. The Ocean

**A/N: **It's ten o'clock and I'm watching _LOST _with my older sister. The end.

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>The Ocean: <span>

"There is no fucking way I'm going to the beach, Blaine. Period," snapped Kurt, flipping through the latest issue of VOGUE.

Blaine pouted. "Come on, please?"

"Hmm...Let's see. You want me to go someplace where little kids pee in shark-infested waters, sit in the sand and probably get a third-degree sunburn, and watch girls flounce around in their bikinis. No. Way."

"_Please." _

"Did you know that sand gets everywhere? Your shoes, your swimsuit, your bags, your food, your pina colatas, your freakin' butthole, Blaine! I hate sand. Always have[p. No."

"Please, please, please. Please!"

"I don't fancy buttrashes, okay? They are just not attractive."

"Pleaseeeeee?"

"Sunburns often lead to skin cancer, did you know that? Skin cancer leads to death. Do you want me to die? I didn't think so."

"Pretty please."

"The beach is so boring! There's nothing to do but lay around and get buttrashes and skin cancer. Honestly, Blaine, why would you even want to go?"

"It's in Hollywood."

"What're you standing around for? We need to get packed! Packed! Barbra Streisand could be there! _Barbra Streisand." _

"Uh-huh, dear," Blaine said, smiling happily. _Well, San Diego's close enough to Hollywood..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Beaches and I have a love/hate relationship. It seems like Kurt would just flat-out hate it. ONE MORE!

Love,

Lexi


	35. Peanut Butter

**A/N: **For those of you who watch _LOST, _I'm watching the scene where Charlie asks Claire what she misses most and she says peanut butter. So he finds an empty jar and they share "peanut butter" together. It's soooo cute! :D

Anyways, I did it. Good fucking night.

**Chapter Rating:** Appropriate

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Peanut Butter: <span>

"Come here."

"No."

"It's just peanut butter."

"I'm allergic."

"You are not. You love Nutter-Butters."

"It's sticky."

"Yup. Come here."

"It's brown!"

"Indeed. Come here."

"What're you going to do with it? Oh, my God, you're going to rub it all over me, aren't you?"

"Wha- No! Why would I do that? Come here!"

"It smells gross."

"That's the best part. _Come here." _

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat this."

"No!"

"Eat it."

"No!"

"Eat _it!" _

"Fine! God..."

"There we go. How does it taste?"

"Mmm."

"Kurt? You liked it didn't you."

"Whatever."

"Do you want some more?"

"...Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Stupid, yet hopefully funny. My sister hates peanut butter. I love it! Yay! :D Prompts?

Love,

Lexi


	36. Chicken Pox

**A/N: **101 REVIEWS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I love you guys! That's amazing and it makes me feel so sparkly and wonderful and just _thank you so much! _

Today is New Year's where I live and last night I stayed up until 6:00am with my best friends. We prank called people at midnight and got hyped up on sugar and started talking about vibrating bat testicles...It was so much fun! But I'm paying for it today, with the big-ass purple bags beneath my eyes and I'm in a shitty mood.

Unfortunatley, I go back to school the day after tomorrow, which means scarce updates on weekdays but regular on the weekends. I'm going to be swamped with homework and drama and shit, but I'll try my best :)

This was prompted by _Anon, _who wanted Blaine to get Chicken Pox. Klaine is in college in New York, but they live in seperate apartments and Blaine attends NYU while Kurt goes to NYADA.

**Chapter Rating: **Appropriate

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Chicken Pox: <span>

"Blaine, sweetheart?" called Kurt, placing his car keys on the kitchen table and removing his pea coat. "Are you here?"

He stalked over to the couch, stamping his feet in disgust at the pile of dirty dishes littering the coffee table and the mop of blankets. "Blaine!"

The mop of blankets stirred ever so slightly. "Dear God," snarled Kurt. "Please tell me you did not get another hangover." He threw back the blankets to reveal his boyfriend. Blaine's curls stuck up every-which-way, swollen red bumps smothered every inch of his body.

Kurt shrieked and jumped back. "_Blaine?" _

Blaine sniffled, looking up with puppy dog eyes. "Oh, baby," the brunette cooed, sitting on the armrest and ruffling his hair. "Honey, why didn't you call me? I would've prefered taking care of you over going to college."

Blaine grunted.

"Have you taken any medication, babe?" Kurt wanted to know. Blaine shook his head. Kurt sighed. "I'll get you some."

He returned with a frosty glass of water and several ibuprofens, along with a damp cloth and some cream for the sores. "Here, sit up."

Blaine stiffly sat up, throwing his legs over Kurt's and pouting as he took off his shirt. Kurt handed him the water and he downed the pills in a gulp.

"This is going to be cold," said Kurt, gathering the cool white cream on his fingers and dotting it onto the sores on Blaine's shoulders. "How long have you been sick, sweetheart?"

Blaine flinched as the substance made contact with his flushed skin. "S-Since I woke up this m-morning. I didn't want t-to bother you."

Kurt continued to treat the rash. "Don't worry about that. You're sick and you need love. All done. Now, hold on."

Kurt got up and ajourned to the kitchen, soon coming back with two oven mits. "Put these on."

Blaine made a face. "Why?" he demanded.

"To stop you from scratching. If you scratch, it'll only get worse," said Kurt, slipping them onto Blaine's hands. Blaine stuck out his bottom lip in protest.

"They're ugly and they clash with my pajama bottoms," he noted.

"Well, then you shouldn't have worn plaid. Come here and cuddle." Kurt held out his arms, switching on the T.V.

"Nuh-uh. You're going to get sick!" Blaine scooted away.

"You can only get Chicken Pox once and I've already had them."

Blaine grinned. "Really? Only once? Thank _God." _He laid down in Kurt's embrace, closing his eyes. "I like how you take care of me when I'm sick."

Kurt kissed the top of his head, gaze trained on the afternoon showing of _Say Yes to the Dress. _"Anytime, baby. Anytime."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I've never had Chicken Pox. I hope it was realistic. Thanks! :)

Love,

Lexi


	37. Doggy in the Window

**A/N: **I know that some of you requested to see some Hummel and Anderson parental units and I'm working on that, along with the sequel to _Realization. _I'm getting there, pee-pole-ehs. :D

It's only fair that Klaine gets a dog. Afterall, they've had guinea pigs and cats. Also prompted by _Anon._

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I own _Glee! _Just kidding. D,:

* * *

><p><span>Doggy in the Window: <span>

"Kurttttttt," Blaine said into the phone, a grin tugging at the sides of his mouth.

An audible sigh sounded from the other end. Kurt was at work. "Yes, baby? Can you make it quick? I'm busy."

"I need you to pick some things up from the store on the way home, 'kay?"

"Like what? I'm not purchasing any more of your fucking potato chips, Blaine Anderson," snapped Kurt.

"No, no. N-Not potato chips...Dog food."

"_Dog food? _Why would we need that? Oh, my God. Blaine...Blaine, you did not!" shouted Kurt.

Blaine could practically picture is his fuming expression. "It was in a box on the street corner, Kurt," whined Blaine. He was desperate to make this work. One-armed, he scooped up the hyper puppy nipping at his feet. "A _box. _Like, all alone with nobody to take care of him. He's so cute, Kurtie. He's got these floppy ears and huge eyes - it's just the sweetest thing. And I did some research! Guess what? Dog food is pretty damn cheap. I think we can afford it with our wages..."

"Hell. No," snarled the brunette. "I told you that we weren't going to get any pets. They _are _expensive and they _are _worthless. When I get home, we can take it to the animal shelter-"

"No!" Blaine wailed, absently stroking the animal. "We can't take Beethoven back!"

"_Beethoven? _You named it? Fuck, Blaine, I don't have time for this. I'm at work."

"Great. Then you can just pick up dog food and I'll leave you alone," Blaine tried again.

"No. I promise the animal shelter will provide a good home for it, probably better than we ever could," Kurt said. "Please don't fight me on this. I really don't think we can take care of it right now."

"Please." Blaine's tone was broken and Kurt could hear his heart breaking. "I want this so bad."

Kurt released a shuddered groan. "You are a despicable human being. Why am I dating you? Why?"

Blaine beamed. "Because I'm charming, suave, smart and excellent in bed."

"Don't go there," Kurt said. "I'll pick up the food, but I swear to God, if that thing so much as _licks _one of my Katherine Laboni shoes, I will shoot it."

"Thank you, babe," giggled Blaine, kissing the pup triumphantly. "I love you."

"Shut up."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Just cranking some out while watching _The Jungle Book _with Dauna. Wooo-hooo Sheer Khan.

Love,

Lexi


	38. Teenage Code

**A/N: **I am ETERNALLY SORRY! I've been sooo fucking busy with glee club, vocal lessons, drum lessons, basketball (damn you, parents) and homework. HOMEWORK SHALL BE THE DEATH OF ME!

I know some of you were PMing me, and I will get back to you, I promise. My account momentarily shut down and gah! Gah, gah, _gah! _You guys have been submitting SO many prompts and I'm so pleased! I could just, like, make out with you guys! Except not really...Moving on, I will fufill them all. If I forget something, please tell me.

I published another Klaine-centered story called _With Death Comes Memories. _Please check that out! :)

_Starkidgleek0502 _wanted to see more of Burt and Carole. Yayyy! Finn's being stupid. Carole's being sweet. Burt's being over-protective.

**Chapter Rating: **Parents are awful. In my case. Except I love them. For the most part. Hey, they give me shelter. And electronics. But my dad wants to shoot my boyfriends. Yeah. So. Okay, I'm rambling. It's appropriate.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>Teenage Code: <span>

"Hey, dad?" Kurt called, snatching his car keys off the hook in the kitchen. "Dad?"

"In here!" Burt replied from the living room. Carole and Kurt's father were curled up on the couch, an afternoon showing of _Law and Order: Special Victim's Unit _playing on the T.V. Burt looked up as his son entered.

Kurt twirled the keys around his finger. "I'm going out with Blaine, alright?" he said.

Burt pondered for a second, then nodded. "Fine. You need to be back before nine, 'kay, bud?"

"Okay. Thanks, dad!" Kurt exited, grinning. "Bye, Carole. We'll be at Breadstix!"

Carole smiled softly, muting the T.V. and turning to clasp hands with her husband. "He's so happy," she noted. "Do you see the way he light's up whenever someone mentions Blaine?"

Burt shifted uncomfortabley. "I suppose. It still makes me flinch whenever I think of that boy messin' with my son. Usin' 'im for sex and such. And then throwing him away like a piece of trash."

Carole nodded. "I get where you're coming from, sweetheart. But Blaine's not that way. He's dapper, charming, handsome and passionate. He loves Kurt just as much as Kurt loves him. Trust is an important element to a relationship. Besides, Kurt has good taste..."

Burt sighed. "Damn, Carole, being over-protective is part of the fatherly job. I enjoy being snappy with my son's boyfriend," he admitted jokingly.

"And it's part of the _motherly _job to assure you everything's fine," Carole rebutted. She switched the T.V.'s volume back on. "I like Blaine. He's cute."

Burt shrugged. "But I'm cuter, right?"

Before Carole could reply, Finn scoffed, leaning against the stair railing. "Why don't you like Quinn? Or Rachel, for that matter. Only Kurt's boyfriends get the okay."

"You knocked Quinn up," stated Burt. "Rachel talks too much. Facts." Carole burst into laughter.

"Gee, thanks," Finn whined. "Oh, and pops? You do know that guys can still have sex, right? I bet Kurt and Blaine do it _all the time." _

Burt cringed. "And 'we're going to Breadstix' is teenage code for 'we're going to go have sex in Blaine's car'." Finn raced up the stairs, snickering to himself.

Carole chewed her lip. "Finn's just jealous."

Nevertheless, Burt ajourned to the living room window. "Hey, honey?" he asked quietly.

"Yes?" Carole's eyes were on the television.

"Blaine's car is a red sudan, right?"

"Yup. Why?"

"Because it's parked outside...And it doesn't look like the boys are sharing a calm conversation..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I will be cranking these out as late as possible this fine Saturday night, while enjoying episodes of _LOST _with Annabella. Oh, and _Law and Order: Special Victim's Unit _is one of my favorite creepy-ass-killing-spree-sex shows :) I think _Law and Order_'s cliche, like Kurt, personally. But SVU is okay. Review?

Love,

Lexi


	39. Til Kingdom Come

**A/N: **Oh, my God, guys! :,) _Katerina4life, _I love you! That was, like, the best prompt ever! :D I'm so happy to comply!

_Okay so. They get married in New York, in a field with cherry trees that are pretty in the wind. Then for their wedding song is Til Kingdom Come by Coldplay. And the reception is outside under pretty lights strung around trees. The end! Make it romantic and pretty!_

I'll do my best! Send me an invitation to your magnificent future wedding ;) Finn is the best man; Puck, Mike, Artie, David and Wes are the groomsmen. Rachel (Finn's wife) is the maid of honor; Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Mercedes and Tina are the bridesmaids. Reise is the flowergirl (Rachel and Finn's two year old daughter). Woo!

**Chapter Rating: **Scarce language.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>Til Kingdom Come: <span>

A summery breeze filtered through the primp cherry blossum roses, positioned high in the midst of whipping branches. Downy grass is dotted across the smooth hillsides, a glinting stream to the left. Tents were pitched on either side of a silky white pathway. Banners flapped in the golden sunlight, supporting the words "BLAINE AND KURT".

In the tent on the right, several young women fretted over a brown-haired man's suit. His eyes, green-rimmed sapphire, matched perfectly with his baby-blue tuxedo. His white sash and bowtie were constantly fixed.

Rachel stepped back, her silvery gown twirling around her slender legs. She wiped beneath her brown eyes, smiling softly. "Oh, Kurt," she gushed, "you look amazing."

Mercedes nodded, smoothing the invisible creases in his pants. "Absoloutely dashing. Blaine's going to die when he sees you in this."

Kurt turned to face the mirror, sweeping his hair behind his ears nervously. "You think? Really? God, I'm so nervous."

Tina brushed a kiss to his flushed cheek. "You love him, right?"

"Yeah. A lot," Kurt replied, watching the Asian female apply lipstick.

"Well then, don't be nervous. Don't think about the people, or the future. Just think about him," she said.

Kurt grinned. "Thanks, T. I will."

"Knock, knock!" Finn stepped into the doorway of the tent, waving sheepishly at the cluster of suddenly fuming girls.

"Out, out, out!" ordered Santana. "Move it or I'll kick your ass."

Brittany linked arms with her girlfriend. "Yeah, you aren't supposed to see the groom before the wedding...Or is it the bride?"

"Both," said Quinn. "But Finn's not the groom. What do you need?"

Finn scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Blaine, uh, wanted me to tell Kurt sometihng."

"Shoot." Kurt was re-tying his bow.

"He says...He says that he...loves you?" Finn muttered.

All the women squealed. "That's so sweet!" remarked Rachel. "Awww."

Finn rolled his eyes. "And to start getting ready. The guests are getting anxious."

The girls kicked Finn out, touching up their makeup for the last time. They ran their hands over the fabric of the creamy silver dresses, pressing kisses to Kurt's forehead. Then, it was time.

Mercedes lined up with David. Santana with Puck. Brittany with Artie. Quinn with Wes. Tina with Mike. Rachel with Finn. And Kurt.

A melodic tune floated through the air. Kurt peeked out of the tent, spotting his father and Carole seated next to the Andersons in the front row. Emma and Will were glancing back and offering high-fives to their old students.

_"Still my heart and hold my tongue. I feel my time. My time has come. Let me in, unlock the door. I've never felt this _

Mercedes and David began to walk; Mercedes looking endlessly elegant with her ebony hair pinned back in tiny metal roses. Their steps were paced, stalking toward Blaine, who stood at the empty alter alone.

"_And the wheel just keeps on turning. The drummer begins to drum. I don't know which away I'm going...I don't know which way I've come..." _

Santana gripped Puck's bicep hard and practically dragged him down the aisle, grinning mischieviously, her flowing dark curls bouncing merrily.

_"Hold my head inside your hands. I need someone who understands. I need someone...Someone who hears. For you I've waited all these years..."_

Brittany, smiling dumbly, wheeled Artie down in his wheelchair. Artie timidly waved at the audience. Quinn moved behind them with Wes; Wes stuck his tongue out in a Kiss motion at a chuckling David.

_"For you I'd wait 'til kingdom come. Until my day; my day is done. And you say you'll come and set me free. Just say you'll wait...You'll wait for me..." _

Tina and Mike sauntered down the walkway, holding hands. Mike spun his wife when they reached Blaine at the end, and they parted. Rachel and Finn, maid of honor and best man, strode the slowest. Rachel pecked Blaine before proudly watching her daughter, Reise, scatter petals alone the milky strip.

Kurt's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe or think...Oh, my God, he's getting _married. _In _New York._

_"In your tears and in your blood, in your fire and in your flood. I hear you laugh, I heard you sing. I wouldn't change a single thing. And the wheels just keep on turning, the drummers begin to drum. I don't know which way I'm going...I don't know what I've become..."_

Everybody gasped as Kurt emerged from the hut. Kurt blushed, watching his feet, striding widely. He nodded to his father and stepmother, then to Blaine's parents. Soon to become his _parents-in-law._

And then all Kurt Hummel could see...Was Blaine. Blaine's quivering, heart-warming beam; Blaine's tear-filled hazel eyes; Blaine's hands suddenly encasing his.

_"For you I'd wait 'til kingdom come. Until my days, my days are done. And say you'll come and set me free. Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me. Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me...Just say you'll wait...You'll wait for me..."_

Kurt sniffled. Blaine pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, his pale fingers shaking.

"K-Kurt Hummel. You're like a distant, hopeful light, shining through thick fog. You're like _my _distant, hopeful light, shining through thick fog. When I found you, I knew we'd be together forever. I love the way you can't help but buy everything Marc Jacobs. I love the way you dab your pizza with a napkin to get all the grease off, as if you're going to eat it, but you really don't. I love the way you have a two-hour moisturizing routine you complete every morning and every night. I love everything about you, Kurt Hummel. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you're mine. That you're going to be my husband. I love you more than anything. I love _you." _

Tears flowed freely down Kurt's cheeks. Blaine grinned timidly. Kurt studied his feet carefully, before looking back up at his fucking _fiance. _"Blaine...I can't believe this is happening. For a dark period of my life, I truly thought I wouldn't find love. People in school told me that because I was gay, that I wouldn't ever experience love. When I found you, we tested that theory. We tested it and broke it. I realized that true love isn't something you find, it's something you share. And I share it with you. You're calm, sweet, sensitive, patient, understanding, compassionate, gentle, quirky, charming...I swoon when I see you...I can't wait to begin to spend my life with you."

Blaine kissed his tears away, tilting his face up. "I love you," he whispered.

Kurt didn't respond, instead smashing their lips together.

Kurt loves each and every one of their kisses. He loves the tenderly kindled emotion packed into each one. He loves the morning kisses. He loves the night kisses. He loves the sexy kisses. He loves the cheesy kisses. But most of all, Kurt loved the kiss that symbolized their marriage.

* * *

><p>"We're married," giggled Blaine, throwing his arms around for emphasis. "We're <em>married, <em>Kurt!"

Kurt leaned against his _husband. _"I know. Isn't it blissful?" Kurt's features were illuminated in the lights that dangled from tree limbs.

Blaine nodded, pressing their heads together. "I love you so much. And now it's branded in the most official way. Screw people who think we can't get fucking married!"

Kurt smirked. Perhaps his _husband _had drank a bit too much champagne. Couples danced in the serenity in the garden, swaying to the music. Puck, Wes and David, all beyond drunk, clashed beer bottles together in the far corner. Santana and Brittany were making out at one of the tables. Kurt could've sworn it was that damn Berry party in high school, again.

"Hey, hey," said Blaine, shaking his shoulder lightly. "I want to sing you a song."

"What?" Kurt demanded as his _husband _stood up and flounced over to the DJ station manned by Mike. They exchanged a few words before Blaine took the microphone. He tapped the lens suggestively.

"Hello? Testing, one, two, three! Yeah, hi, so I want to dedicate this song to my _husband, _the best man in the world: Kurt Hummel-Anderson. So, yeah."

"FUCK YEAH!" screamed Mercedes, twirling in a circle.

Kurt stiffled a laugh. Blaine tapped the mic again as the song started up. Kurt froze. Oh. My. God.

"I didn't...I didn't do this the right way the first time...But...Yeah..." The lyrics began.

"_Baby girl, where you at?  
>Got no strings, got men attached<br>Can't stop that feelin' for long no  
>Mmmm<br>You makin' dogs wanna beg  
>Breaking them off your fancy legs<br>But they make you feel right at home, now_

_Ooooh  
>See all these illusions just take us too long<br>Ooooh And I want it bad..  
>Because you walk pretty,<br>Because you talk pretty,  
>'Cause you make me sick<br>And I'm not leavin', till you're leavin'_

_Oh I swear there's something when she's pumpin',  
>Asking for a raise<br>Well does she want me to carry her home now?  
><em>_ So does she want me to buy her things?  
>On my house, on my job<br>On my loot, shoes, my shirt,  
>My crew, my mind, my father's last name?<em>

_When I get you alone  
>When I get you you'll know baby<br>When I get you alone  
>When I get you alone now<em>

_Baby girl you da shit  
>That makes you my equivalent<br>Well you can keep your toys in the drawer tonight,  
>All right<br>All my dawgs talkin' fast-  
>Aint you got some photographs?<br>'Cause you shook that room like a star, now  
>Yes you did, oh<em>

_All these intrusions just take us too long  
>And I want you so bad..<br>Because you walk city,  
>Because you talk city,<br>'Cause you make me sick  
>And I'm not leavin', till you're leavin'<em>

_So I pray to something she aint bluffin',  
>Rubbin' up on me<br>Well does she want me to make a vow?  
>Check it<br>Well does she want me to make it now?  
>On my house, on my job<br>On my loot, shoes, my voice,  
>My crew, my mind, my father's last name?<em>

_When I get you alone  
><em>_When I get you you'll know baby  
><em>_When I get you alone  
>When I get you alone now<em>

_Oh no  
>Get you alone baby<br>Oohh..  
>Yeaaahhh..."<em>

The whole garden was silent. Kurt stared up at his _husband _in shock.

"Did I do it right?" croaked Blaine.

Kurt stood up robotically and strode over to Blaine. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."

They sealed the night with a pleasant kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Shit, that was long! I hope you enjoy.

_L_ove,

Lexi


	40. Butts

**A/N:** Don't ask me where the fuck this came from. I have no idea. Anyways, I wanted to update today (even though it's a damn school day) because I'm going to have a scary movie marathon with my friends tomorrow night and probably won't be able to upload chapters. FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH, BABY!

Please don't get used to my updating on school days, as I am up to my fuckin' eyeballs in homework and extra cirricular activities (again, damn you parents).

**Chapter Rating: **Maybe a little Mature, but mostly Teen.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>Butts: <span>

"Blaine," Kurt said, tearing a piece of notebook paper from his pad and inspecting it. "I need you to run to the store. Maggie's having a barbeque tonight and she wants us to bring chips and chopped fruits. We also need more toilet paper."

Blaine pouted, looking up solumnly from the afternoon showing of _16 and Pregnant!_. "But-" he began.

Kurt shook his finger tauntingly. "Butts are for fucking, Blaine. Move it."

Blaine waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "If I didn't know you any better, Mr. Hummel, I'd think that was a come-on."

"Well, good thing you know me better because that is an extremely cliche bedroom line," Kurt sniffed.

Blaine grinned. "What time is Maggie's barbeque?"

"Seven, why?" Kurt demanded.

Blaine glanced at the clock. "It's two now. So, if I dutifully complete the shopping list in an hour and come home, that leaves us four hours."

"Two to get ready," Kurt reminded his boyfriend.

"And then two for..."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Blaine, get your ass to the store right now."

"Is that a yes?"

"Only because I like the afterglow sex gives my skin," Kurt snapped. "Go!"

Blaine snatched the list, smirking. "Sure," he drawled. "I love you. And your terribly cliche bedroom lines."

Kurt stuck up his nose as the door slammed. "God, that man," he muttered, smiling profoundly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hahahaha! Butts are for fucking ;D That sentence makes me way too giggley...

Love,

Lexi


	41. Mööshe

**A/N: **_MrsColferCriss _asked for this weeks ago and I feel so bad for not fulfilling it sooner! D: "_C__an you do one where Blaine's parents are actually nice people, but can't help him when he's was, so his dad rings Kurt or something? Basically comfort Klaine (with sad blaine) and nice Mr Anderson?" _Why yes, yes I can ;)

So Blaine's dog is named Mööshe (MOO-SHHH) and if you guess what BOOK that is from, you will get a slap-ass shout-out in the next chapter! I'll give you a hint...The author wrote the _Princess Diaries _series. Blaine's parents (in my book) are going to be called Erisa and Theo.

Totally random story: Last night, I slept over with my friends and we decided to order three different pizzas under different names XD. One name was "Mike Rotch Uhrtz", another was "Anita Handjob", and the last was *giggle* "Ben Dov Rebitche". Hahah! It's "my crotch hurts", "I need a handjob", and "bend over, bitch".

**hapter Rating: **Teen for language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Mööshe:<span>

"Hello?" Kurt said into the phone, craning his neck in order to hold the phone between his shoulder and ear.

"Kurt?"

"Speaking," he replied, scooping up a dallop of lotion and spreading it over his porcelain cheeks.

"Yes, um, this is Mr. Anderson...Blaine's father?" the man's deep voice croaked on the other end.

Kurt froze. Sure, he had met Erisa and Theodore before during several awkward dinners, and they had seemed nice enough. Maybe severly strict, uptight, stiffly polite, but nice enough. They were Blaine's parents and as long as they continued to accept him, he would accept them. What was Theo doing calling him at ten on a Satuday night? "S-sir?"

"Usually I wouldn't be calling at such an inconveniant hour, but I didn't know who else to contact...You were the first person that came to mind, you see," Theo confessed. "It's Blaine."

Kurt rocketed out of the bathroom. "What? What's the matter? What happened?" he panted, sliding off his pajamas and stepping into white skinny jeans that he had laid out for ironing.

"We had a...One of our family members recently...Passed away and Blaine is having a hard time. He won't let me or Erisa come in. We're worried and we're aware of his feelings for you, so we thought...Listen, Kurt, I understand if you can't make the drive tonight," Theo ranted.

Kurt was already scribbling a frantic note for his father. "I'm coming, I'm coming. I'll be there in an hour." He snatched his car keys from the hook.

"Thank you. Blaine will really...Well, Erisa and I really appreciate it," said Theo.

* * *

><p>Theo wasn't anything less than surprised to see his son's boyfriend, clad in wrinkled skinny jeans and a purple cardigan, breathless, standing on his front step. "Come in," he said, opening the door.<p>

Kurt raced inside, worriedly threading his fingers through his hair. "Where is he?"

Theo nodded towards the stairs. As Kurt bounded towards them, Theo whispered, "Thank you for coming."

Kurt smiled wryly. "I love Blaine." Kurt awaited his reply; perhaps a flinch or a slight shake of the head. Nothing came. Kurt continued his gallop up the stairs.

"Blaine!" he called, knocking feverently on the familiar oak door. "Blaine, it's me."

He pushed lightly against the wood, peering in. "Blaine," he drawled. The room was dark, the shades pulled over the window, and a crumpled array of sheets on the bed.

A low sniffle echoed throughout the room. Kurt closed the door and strode to sit on the edge of Blaine's bed. "Honey?"

Blaine sat up slowly. The swollen, crimson rings that encircled his eyes made him resemble a high raccoon, his nose like a cherry tomato. "Kurt," he whimpered. Kurt's heart shattered in his chest.

Kurt moved closer, extending his arms. Blaine rested on Kurt broadened stomach, inhaling his sweet scent. He allowed the tears to fall freely, relaxing in Kurt's hands.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt murmured, kissing his head lightly.

"I-I...Kurt, he just...It was a hit-and-run," Blaine mumbled, voice broken.

"Who was it?" Kurt wanted to know.

"Mööshe," he answered, releasing a sob. Kurt's hands stopped their minustrations.

"_Mööshe," _he repeated. "As in, your yippy little german shephard?"

Blaine nodded numbly. "He was...run over."

Kurt was stung. All this fret over a dog? By the way Theo had spoken - and Blaine's attitude - they made it appear as if an uncle had died. Kurt was angry. It was eleven o'clock and instead of getting beauty sleep, he was fucking fussing over a dog. Then again, he'd never had a pet, besides his pathetic goldfish. "Shhh." Kurt stroked his back. "It's okay, baby."

"I know it is." Blaine turned to stare into Kurt's eyes. "Because you're here...And you didn't even take the time to wipe the lotions off your face."

Kurt sniffed, rubbing a thumb over the oily surface of his chin. "God damn right you are, Blaine Anderson. You better appreciate this."

Blaine offered a watery grin. "I do. More then you know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I'm working on a new chapter of With Death Comes Memories. Perhaps you'll waddle on over there and check it out :) Lovekins!

Love,

Lexi


	42. Death

**A/N: **Challenge, anyone? :)

This is so very, very angsty and very deathish and short. Shame on me! David Karofsky (fuck him) never transferred, but Blaine still did.

**Chapter Rating: **Character death!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned _Glee, _there would be a lot more Klaine. And sex. The end.

* * *

><p><span>Death:<span>

No number of showers can ever cleanse you of guilt. No matter how hard you scrub your body, no matter how much you bleed, it will _never _suffice for the spilled blood of another.

David Karofsky has never been one for showers. But ever since the famous massacre at McKinley, he can't seem to get enough of them. He often wonders, during long hours wasted in the midst of thundering water, why he ever let things go so far.

He truly liked Kurt Hummel. He liked the brunette's bravado, his striking sass, the way he wasn't afraid to let people know who he was. Karofsky just wanted to be like him; he just wanted to be accepted, acceptive of himself. He wanted to find love.

Azimio had been his best friend since kindergarten. He was controlling and stereotypical, yet he was the closest person to Karofsky, and no matter of unnatural feelings was worth loosing that connection.

Now Karofsky rethinks that statement.

Karofsky is a coward; always has been. He saw Azimio take the gun from his father's basement, stuff it into his back pocket, but he tried to deny it. He didn't do anything when the everyday squabble between Blaine and Azimio took place, or even when it got a bit too heated.

He didn't do anything when Azimio threatened to shoot Blaine and Kurt. He didn't do anything when a gunshot cracked the air and the limp body of Blaine Anderson tumbled onto the concrete. He didn't do anything when Kurt knelt over his boyfriend, screaming, sobbing. He didn't call 911.

He didn't do anything when another gunshot cracked the air and then suddenly Kurt was gone, too. He only dutifully followed Azimio away from the crime scene.

He didn't go to the funeral. He didn't step up to the memorial the school held.

But Karofsky did accept the box dedicated to him from Kurt. He did tear it open with numb hands. And he did accept the internship to Dalton: "_David, to a man who's got it in him. Don't be afraid. You'll find what you're seeking in good time. This isn't cowardice; this is the first step in the right direction. Good luck. Love, Kurt."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** When I said, "numb hands", I meant in the literal sense...I can't feel my thumb...

Love,

Lexi


	43. Broken Bones

**A/N: **This was prompted by _Duncan-Gwen-Roxx, _and again I am SO sorry for being so late on updating this :) I lurve you! Anyways, she/he requested that Kurt break the fuck out of his arm during glee rehearsal and Blaine makes it all better.

Prompts?

**Chapter Rating: **Teen for my pottymouth

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Broken Bones: <span>

"AHHHHH!" Kurt's shrill voice split the air as every head in glee club snapped to the back of the room, towards the source of the noise. Kurt's frail frame was askew on the ground, the small boy clutching his oddly bent arm in agony. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

"Finn!" cried Mr. Schue. "Go get the nurse! Rachel, call 911!" Rachel whipped out her phone as Finn scrambled out of the room.

Puck, Brittany, Sam, Santana, Tina, Mike, Mercedes and Artie stood back respectfully with pale faces. Blaine knelt by his boyfriend, eyes wide with concern. Mr. Schue inspected his arm.

"Kurt," Will's tone was steady. "Kurt, can you move it? Can you move your arm?"

Kurt screamed again as Will took hold of his now purpling limb. "GOD DAMN IT! IT HURTS!" Tears slipped down his cheeks.

Blaine cradled his head, stooping slow. "It's okay, shhh. Babe, I know it hurts. Shhh. They'll be here soon, 'kay? The medics and they'll fix you up really good."

"It's like the WORST MOTHER FUCKING PAIN I have ever felt in my FUCKING life!" Kurt wailed, his eyes screwed shut.

Will winced at the language, but the predicament was understandable. Blaine nodded and swallowed hard. "I know, love, I know."

"Blaine," Kurt whimpered, tugging him closer. "Make it go away."

"I can't, hon, I wish I could, but I can't," Blaine murmured. He pressed a solid kiss to his sweaty forehead. "Just look at me...Shhh, look at me."

Kurt blinked hard, attempting to clear the mist of tears from his eyes.

Suddenly, a nurse bustled in, Finn trailing her. "What happened?" she demanded, earning a squeal from Kurt as she gently prodded his arm.

"He fell," said Blaine. "He was standing on a chair for one of our performance numbers, and it fell and then he fell and his arm twisted behind him. Is he going to be alright?"

"It's broken, for sure," confessed the nurse. "Did you call an ambulance?"

Rachel chewed her lip. "They should be here any minute..."

As if on cue, bouts of paramedics galloped into the room. Kurt, sobbing, was fussed over, lifted onto a stretcher and dragged out.

"BLAINE!" Kurt screamed. "BLAINE!"

Blaine jogged after, clamping down on his outstretched hand. "I'm here, baby, I'm here."

"I love you," Kurt whispered.

"I love you, too."

Santana watched after them, leaning on Brittany and smirking. "I bet the sex sounds the same."

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><p><strong>AN: **I hope it was satisfactory :D

Love,

Lexi


	44. Panties

**A/N: **My computer is being a mother-fucking-bitch! It won't let me read the reviews for my story, so I can't tell you who prompted for this chapter at the moment. I'm so sorry! D:

Anyways, whoever requested this wanted Klaine to take their daughter, Marissa (she's going to be called Rissy, Rissa, Mari and other names in this chapter, but it's the same person) shoppin' for her first thong. And because I just typed "thong", Annabella told me she has a whole collection...Wow, Anna, thanks. Cuz I totally needed to know that :\

**Chapter Rating: **Thongs. Um, it's pretty self-explanitory.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee. _But I'm working on it.

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><p><span>Panties: <span>

"Dads," drawled Rissy, trailing behind her fathers dutifully as they strode throughout the mall. "Where are we going?"

Kurt and Blaine stopped, each holding out a hand for her to take. Marissa had big blue eyes, like Kurt, and honey-colored curls. They had used a surrogate sixteen years ago, and Kurt's sperm. Their other daughter, Polly, twelve, had been created with Blaine's sperm.

Kurt swung their linked hands together back and forth. "Well, we figured that since you're sixteen now, you should get to pick out some of your own clothing."

"I already pick out my own clothes," Marissa retorted.

"We mean...undergarments," Blaine said, exchanging a curious look with Kurt.

"You'll understand when we get there," promised Kurt. "Speaking of, we're here."

Marissa gazed up at the familiar pink lettering of the store: Victoria Secret. She blushed, dumbfounded. "You don't mean..."

"Thongs," Blaine confirmed, earning a few glances from passing customers.

Rissa wrinkled her nose. "And you guys are actually coming in?" she whispered.

"Who did you think was going to buy 'em?" laughed Kurt. "Come on, sweetie."

If picking out your first thong with your two gay dads isn't akward, Mari didn't know what was. Kurt held up a pink lace pair of panties. "Isn't this cute? A bit short, yeah, totally cliche depending on the sex movies, yeah, but cute. Don't you think, Rissy?"

Marissa sighed. "I'd like something a bit more..." She motioned to her black button-down pea coat and simple jeans. "You know, me."

Blaine held up a black thong, peeking through the gap. "I can see you, Rissa."

Rissa shrieked and snatched the undergarments from her father. "Dad!" she cried. "What on earth?"

"Hey, hey," Blaine protested as Kurt stiffled a chuckle. "I've never been exposed to these things before. It's sorta interesting."

"Oh, my God," mumbled Marissa, stuffing the thong into her basket. "Honestly."

"Mari, babe, look at this one! Isn't this totally Kate Middleton? Blaine, can't you see Kate Middleton in this? She'd look good in purple." Kurt tugged on the sides of an indigo thong. "Ooh."

Marissa smacked a hand to her forehead. Okay. No matter of sexy thongs was worth this torture. "You know what?" she said.

Blaine and Kurt looked up from where they were fussing. "Yes, hon?"

"I think I prefer regular panties," admitted Mari.

"Are you sure? You asked us to take you a couple weeks ago," Blaine said, eyes searching Rissy's face for doubt.

"Yeah. Pretty sure."

Kurt smiled. "I like regular panties, too," he told his daughter. "Easier to remove, if you know what I mean."

Rissa laughed. "Gross! I so did not need to know that!"

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><p><strong>AN: **I don't like thongs. That may be awkward, but it's true :p Hope it was to your liking! And sorry again.

Love,

Lexi


	45. Lights Will Guide You Home

**A/N: **There are so many reviews I could fuck my dog! Just kidding, 'cause ew. Thank you! :) So me and my friends went to go see _Joyful Noise _today and it was pretty good. All I could do while watching, though, was stare at Dolly Parton's fucking big-ass boobs! I mean, seriously! That woman has some huge boobs. Like, _huge. _Do not go see that movie if you're a gay guy.

Moving on, we've been challenged! :D _Starkidgleek0502, _said fifty chapters by Wednesday. Y'all need to get some prompts! I'm excited.

This was prompted (thank God) by _KlaineLuneville. _She wanted them to have a fluffy lunch and then have non-descriptive klex. Hopefully it turns out that way :) They're married, by the way.

**Chapter Rating: **Well, there's some non-descriptive sex, so...Whatever you feel comfortable with.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>Lights Will Guide You Home: <span>

Kurt can't help but stare into the transfixing hazel orbs of his husband. Even as Blaine shovels pasta into his mouth, a corkscrew noodle hanging off his bottom lip, Kurt thinks he looks undeniably adorable.

Blaine smells like Axe deodorant and hair gel, but it's a comfortingly fresh sort of scent. His hair, curly as ever, is spread in all directions above his head. A plaid tee hangs loosely off his square shoulders. Although Blaine's frame is noticably shorter than Kurt's, pulsing muscles are evenly spread over his slender bones.

Suddenly, Blaine looks up from the plastic tray of buttery delacies and watches Kurt's face with amusement. "What?" he asks softly.

Kurt turns his attention to the tile flooring, immaculant as ever and reflecting the golden sun that shines through the far window. They sit at the petite kitchen table, enjoying a simple evening supper. Orders from Breadstix, encased in styrafome wrappings, litter the surface. Kurt's already finished his ceasar salad and small Coke. An untouched cheesecake, dripping with strawberry syrup, sits off to the side.

Kurt smiles serenly, looking up through his caramel-shaded eyelashes. "Just...watching...Thanking."

A sly grin tugs at the corners of Blaine's lips. "What are you thankful for?"

"You," Kurt admits. "That might sound awfully corny, like something out of a Dolly Parton film, but it's true. I love you so much, Blaine, and there's nothing I could be more thankful for."

Blaine chews robotically for a moment before setting down his fork. "I love you, too," he says quietly, reaching across the table and clutching Kurt's insanely soft hand.

Kurt leans forward and captures his lips in a sensual kiss. And for that second, they exchange power, love through their lips; all unsayable words are silently murmured; fireworks explode behind their eyelids.

It is painfully delectable. And then the couple, still kissing hungerily, get up and move down the hall. Somewhere in the commotion, shirts are removed. Kurt makes a mental note to throw them in the laundry when they're finisihed.

The kitchen was nice enough, but a bed is made for passion. Soon the satin sheets are occupied with the bodies of Blaine and Kurt. Blaine moves on top of his husband, sliding his hands up and down his porcelain abs.

Kurt's skin prickles at the touch; it feels heavenly. Pants are thrown onto the floor. Blaine tenderly sucks Kurt's bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on the swollen flesh. Kurt arches his back into the heat.

Without further delay, the intrusion is made. Blaine moves above Kurt, grunting into the heavily humid air and lacing their hands together. Kurt tips his head back, only forming a single coherant thought: _I love him. I love him. God, I _love _him. _

Blaine's stance quivers and he stares down with lust-filled, dialated eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, t-too," whimpers Kurt.

There is nothing more pleasurable then looking into the eyes of your lover while you simutaniously fall over the edge of bliss. This seems to magnify the intamicy.

"S-See?" pants Kurt, as they are both frozen in the aftershock of emotion. "_This _is what I'm thankful for."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Don't ask me what the hell is up with the chapter title. I was listening to _Fix You _and it just kind of happened ;) How was it, _KlaineLuneville_?

Love,

Lexi


	46. Shattered

**A/N: **Inspired by a miraculous video called "Draw With Me". Holy shit, that was remarkable! Go check it out! Hurry up and waddle on over there.

So Kurt and Blaine have never met before, although they are both seniors. Kurt has (D:) cancer, and he's going to die in the next couple weeks. Blaine was recently in a car crash and was rendered deaf. I don't know if there's really a recovery room/station in hospitals, but let's pretend there is :)

**Chapter Rating: **Probably K+

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Shattered: <span>

_Kurt Hummel: eighteen year old singer/actor/student/son/victim. Firstborn and only child of the late Elizabeth Chase-Hummel and Burt Hummel. Ambitions: Survive cancer. _

Kurt glares down at the paper, soiled with his immaculant cursive, and crosses out the last sentence. _Ambitions: Find love. _Then again, that statement didn't seem sensible either. He didn't have time for these type of things; he needed to do something important. But...what in life was worthwhile if you couldn't find love?

The nurses in Lima Hospital call Kurt a "special case". He'd been accepting chemo treatment for seven months now, his father barely scraping by with the pays. Kurt was gorgeous, with his clear, porcelain skin and huge, glistening turquoise eyes. He had an impecable sense in fashion, always politely remarking on the nurses' outfits. However, his head was constantly in the clouds. Kurt dreamed of finding the right man, of beginning a fantasy life in New York, starring on Broadway with his best friend, Rachel. He couldn't seem to register the fact that he only had one week to live; one week to make the most of life.

He went through the motions of everyday. Wake up. Eat the fattening foods from the cafeteria. Shower. Get dressed. Pysical therapy. Lunch. Free time. Check-ups. Dinner. Shower. Bed. It was all painfully simple and boring. Kurt loved the days when something was out of line. When he showered before eating, when he recieved an extra harrowing hour of therapy, or especially when Rachel and Finn popped in for a visit. He hated living the shred of life left by schedule. Even though Kurt was a man who liked to lay out a path for himself, this was hell.

Kurt leaned back against the cool metal of the bed brace. His eyes stung with exhaustion, his legs aching with the result of therapy. Why couldn't he be healthy? Why couldn't he be cancer-free and go on with the way his life was supposed to be? He'd always been a good boy growing up. Despite all the bullying, first for the Barbies he'd bring to play with in first grade, then for the Powerpuff Girls sticker on his backpack in fourth, the sparkles on his sneakers in seventh, his coming out in the sophomore year and every moment on from there, he never hurt anyone. He smiled at the "challenged" kids three rooms down, he pleased his father by working extra hours in the shop, he earned money and always came back in time for his curfew and to complete his chores.

Kurt had always loved living, for the most part. The Hummel family had a roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes on their backs. He was a straight A student at McKinley, great friends, a firm future. And then there was that awful apointment; an innocent check-up. The nurse with the sad expression and looming clipboard. The tears and the gripping fear. The next appointment that followed only two months after. "There's nothing else we can do. The cancer has spread too far, and we're afraid the chemotherapy has failed to illiminate the cells. We're terribly sorry, but we'll do everything we can to keep him comfortable for the time he has left."

This time hurt more than the last.

To know that you're going to die before your father; to know that you aren't going to be able to fufill your dreams; to know that you can't find the love you've been waiting for _so long _for, hurts like nothing before. He wouldn't be able to watch Rachel preform on a Broadway stage, or decorate their tiny, cramped apartment. He wouldn't be able to meet _him _and start a family. He wouldn't be able to become a fashion designer. Nothing would be accomplished for Kurt Hummel. Nothing except dying.

Kurt sets down the pen on his armrest, neatly against the rings of the notebook. He rubs his hands over his bare scalp, longing for the ever-familiar sensation of his hair. When nothing but prickles scrape his palms, Kurt pulls away and leans back. The tears are threatening again. Why are they forever on the edge?

"Knock, knock," Lybia stands in the doorway, her fiery red hair pinned behind in a bun. She waves tentatively. "Good morning, Kurt. How are you?"

Kurt sniffles quickly and nods to acknowledge her. The damn nurses seem to always appear at the wrong moments.

"How was therapy earlier? Jenn told me it was a bit rough." When this roused no reply, Lybia crossed to sit on his bed. "Listen, I know something that might cheer you up, Kurt. Would you like to go to the recovery room? You know, that nice little lobby area where you can hang out with kids your own age and talk about your experiences? It's nice in there."

Kurt blinks. Really. The nurses are offering an opportunity to hang-glide away from the usual schedule? The _nurses. _Even if it's small, pathetic, he can't deny the chance. "'Kay," he whispers.

Lybia claps her hands. Why do they speak to him like he's five? "Come on, sweetheart, let's go. Do you feel up to walking or do I need to get a wheelchair?"

"I can walk." With scarce grunts and a few hisses of pain from the cracks in his bones, Kurt heaves himself out of bed. Lybia grips his slender biceps and helps him hobble to the door.

Sympathetic looks are exchanged between nurses lingering in the halls. It's not fair. Kurt doesn't want their pity. The recovery room is filled with many seventeen, eighteen year olds, all sitting about with blank stares. Although the walls are painted a vibrant yellow, although games litter the floor and a Mickey Mouse cartoon plays on the television, it is not happy. Nobody is talking. A boy about sixteen sits in the corner and coughs violently; a girl with glasses is murmuring incorherant words while a nurse pats her back; seemingly the youngest of the group, a boy howls with laughter, pointing at the screen of the T.V. It is frighteningly agonizing.

"Why don't you sit here?" Lybia is saying. She gently leads him to a plush reclining chair next to another teen his age.

Kurt sits down awkwardly and blushes as Lybia pops the legs and waves goodbye. "I'll be back soon, okay, love?"

Kurt turns in order to lay on his side. "Hi," he mutters to the boy sitting next to him. He's cute, with the trademark olive skin of an Italian and the untamable ebony curls Kurt would die for. His eyes are big, hazel, pink-rimmed.

The boy smiles softly, and motions to his ears. Kurt cocks his head, suddenly noticing a white board, eraser and marker on the table between them. The boy's grin softens as he uncaps the marker and scrawls something in chopped handwriting: _I'm deaf. _

Kurt's heart aches. Oh. He nods and chews his lip. The curly-haired boy chuckles silently and writes something else. _I'm Blaine. What's your name?_

He hands over the white board and Kurt thinks the name 'Blaine' has a nice ring to it. He swivels his name down, looping the 't' perfectly. _Kurt. Blaine is a nice name._

Blaine looks up bashfully, the smile never leaving his lips. Kurt's heart beat quickens. Why is he so damn cute? _Why are you here? _Blaine wants to know.

Kurt clears his throat before writing: _Cancer. You?_

_Cancer, huh? I'm sorry. I was in a car wreck...kinda the reason I'm deaf. _Blaine adds a charming smiley face and Kurt can't help but laugh.

_I'm sorry, too. _

_Life sucks sometimes,_ Blaine writes. He watches Kurt as he fingers the marker before writing.

_Doesn't it? _Kurt feels compelled to tell him anything. Blaine makes him feel comfortable. _Did you have dreams, Blaine?_

Blaine freezes at the question, crinkling his nose. _Everyone has dreams. It's whether or not they'll follow through with them. _

True. Kurt is surprised. _Do you want to follow through with your's?_

_Yes. I want to play guitar. But it doesn't really work that well if I can't hear what I'm playinh. What're your dreams?_

_I wanted to be on Broadway. Or maybe a fashion designer. _

_Why 'wanted'?_

_Because I'm going to die. _Kurt looks away. Blaine doesn't respond for a minute.

_Cancer's a bitch. You made it this far, I've no doubt you can make it further._

Why is he baiting him? Life is savory, like a steak, and it's unkind to bait someone with it. _The chemo didn't work, _Kurt writes, as if to make him understand. _And I will die._

_Sure, if you act like that, _says Blaine. _Push forward and you'll be surprised with the results. _This sparks a satisfying smirk from Blaine as he forks over the white board.

Kurt wants to believe him so badly. _So. Badly. _A tear slips down his cheek. Without warning, a calloused thumb swipes across his skin, drying the tear. Kurt looks up, astounded, into the earnest eyes of Blaine.

Blaine's expression furrows into one of concentration. "Y-You can do anything..." he mutters, the tone slurred with disuse. "If you put your min' to it."

Kurt laughs, looking down sullenly. "Y-You're pretty," Blaine points out.

"Pretty?" Kurt says, then remembers that Blaine can't hear him so he writes it down and Blaine nods.

"Gorgeous."

_Thanks,_ Kurt replies. _You're cute, too._

Is this flurting? Kurt wants it to be. He wants to have a fling. On the other hand, he doesn't want one more thing to regret leaving behind. Kurt bites his lip, drawing blood.

Blaine makes Kurt feel alive, after he's been feeling dead for so long. And he's only known him for five minutes. Kurt wonders what it'd be like to spend a lifetime with him.

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><p><strong>AN: **Tell you what: If you peoples can get one hundred and fifty-five reviews to me by the time I post the next chapter, I will bake up an _extremely fluffy_ chapter. Like, super fluffy. So. Please?

Love,

Lexi


	47. How It All Works

**A/N: **One hundred fifty-five reviews :) Come on, peoples.

I'm sure we've all had our parents give us the insanely fuckin' awkward "sex" talk. You know, the thingy goes here and then yada, yada, yada. It's awful! And disturbing to think of our parents doing that *shudder*. It's time for Kurt and Blaine to give their thirteen year old twins, Taelyn and Kyle, the "sex" talk. Oh, joy.

**Chapter Rating: **If you've already had the "sex" talk, you needn't worry. Mature, nevertheless.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

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><p><span>How It All Works:<span>

"Tae?" called Kurt, holding onto the banister of the stairs. "Ky?"

"Yeah?" came the simutanious reply.

"Come down here, kids."

In the kitchen, Blaine buttered four pieces of toast and made glasses of iced tea. Kurt sat down beside him as their children entered, and crossed his legs over Blaine's. The first, a tall girl with wavy black hair and big hazel eyes, smiled at her parents and sat down. A white t-shirt hugged her slender waist, suspended over a jean skirt. Taelyn Elizabeth Hummel-Anderson. The second, a somewhat shorter boy with the same appearance, a skateboarding tee and jeans. Kyle Evrette Hummel-Anderson.

"What's up?" Taelyn asked as she plopped down.

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "We think it's time...It's time we had a talk."

"Oh, God, what's it about this time?" demanded Kyle between mouthfuls of toast.

"Don't speak with your mouth full," said Blaine, lacing his fingers with Kurt's. "Have you kids ever heard of...Sex?"

Taelyn's eyes widened and she blushed. "S-Sex?...Uh, yeah."

Kyle nodded. "Dur."

"Do you know what happens...in the intercourse?" Kurt wanted to know.

Silence. "Well," Blaine cleared his throat. "There are two types of sex: gay and straight."

"Sex means the intrusion of generally a man's penis into a woman's vagina," Kurt clarified. The twins swallowed awkwardly. "T-They move around, thrusting, until both of them come."

"Coming for a woman means releasing a liquid inside her vagina, and for a man means releasing semen. This is how babies are made. The semen travels through a woman's felopian tubes and fertilizes the eggs. A baby begins to grow," said Blaine. He stiffled a grin at his kids' reactions. "Gay sex is when one man's penis enters through the butt."

"Oh, my _God,_" shrieked Taelyn, covering her ears.

"Ew," commented Kyle, looking dazed. "So did not need to know that."

Kurt chuckled, shrugging. "Masterbation, I'm sure both of you do this, is-"

"We know!" cried Kyle.

Blaine winked at Kurt. "Just remember to use a condom, when you have sex, and always birth control, understand?"

"And no intercourse in our house before the age of thirty, 'kay?" Kurt joked.

"Can we go now?" asked Taelyn.

"Sure," said Blaine.

The twins got up, looking disgusted and exited the kitchen.

"Hey!" yelled Kurt. "Sex, sex, sex!"

"EWWWW!"

"This is fun," muttered Blaine, laughing.

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><p><strong>AN: **That was one of the stupidest things I have ever written. I apologize. ;) Prompts? And fluff. Yum.

Love,

Lexi


	48. Winter Wonderland

**A/N: **GLEE IS GOING TO BE ON SOON! HOLY FUCK! ARE YOU EXCITED? I'M EXCITED! SO VERYYY EXCITED! :D I've got a surpise for all of you! But you won't get it until Friday. It's a four part saga. Collective "ooh".

I know I've got...two? more chapters to go before I finish s_tarkid_'s challenge! I wrote this during a social studies lecture and then finished it in the bathroom at the YMCA while my basketball teammates ran suicides. Poor Wexi had a "tummy ache" ;)

Pure fluff. I've never been to Lima, or Ohio, for that matter, so I don't know if it really snows there. Let's say it does. It's around Christmas, and they're home alone at Blaine's house. Post 3x09.

**Chapter Rating: **Very fluffy, scarce cuss words. Teen?

**Disclaimer: **HOLY MOTHER OF PENISES! GLEE IS GOING TO BE ON SOON! *hyperventalation*

* * *

><p><span>Winter Wonderland: <span>

"Kurt?" said Blaine, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet as he peered out the foggy window. "Can we go outside?"

Kurt stood up from the couch, trekking over while cupping his piping tea mug in his hands. He gazed outside, teeth chattering even as he caught sight of the supposed _winter wonderland. _Glistening snow blanketed Blaine's entire backyard, powdering the pine trees with what resembled sugar. Snowflakes still glided down from the stony sky.

"Oh, hell no," stated Kurt. "It's freezing."

"It's not that bad," Blaine disagreed, painting a snowman on the pane with his finger. "Come on. Please?"

"My ass will freeze and fall off. If you remember correctly, Blaine, I happen to need that body part," sniffed Kurt.

"That's why they invented snowpants."

_"Snowpants _are one of the most God-awful clothing articles ever invented. They're ill-fitting and anything made of nylon should instantly be burned."

"Pleaseeee," Blaien whined, his eyes appearing somewhat close to an innocent puppy's. "We won't even have to get dressed. Just for a minute!"

Kurt's shoulders sagged momentarily before he plopped his mug down on the table and nodded warily. "Five minutes. So help me, Blaine Anderson, if my ass falls off, you're going to sew it back on!"

Blaine beamed and tugged his boyfriend to the door. He slipped on his boots, then Kurt's when he expectantly held his socked foot out.

"Screw that; if my ass falls off, I don't want your inaccurate, wobbly fingers repairing it. Take me to the hospital and wait on my hand and foot." The front door flew open, instantly embracing the couple in icy air. "F-Fuck!" cursed Kurt, leaning into the warm body of Blaine as goosebumbs prickled his limbs.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Blaine murmured. Everything was white. Too white, and if you asked Kurt, sure to disable your retnas.

"In a cliche, _It's a Wonderful Life _sorta way," he replied coolly.

A chirp of a bird, the distant crunch of snow, were the only sounds that shattered the serenity of the atmosphere. As time went on, and the extended pine branches swayed to a lazy wind, Kurt warmed noticably up. Blaine's strong arms encased his lanky form and Kurt rested his chin on Blaine's hand.

"It is...kind of pretty," he admitted. "Once you get past the whole 'butt-falling-off' issue."

Blaine puffed out a bubble of misty breath. "Happy you came out here?"

"Only because you're keeping me warm," Kurt retorted, snuggling deeper into Blaine's arms.

"C-Can we go in for a bath, now?" Kurt asked quietly as the minutes ticked on silently.

Blaine held open the door for his boyfriend, stamped his shoes on the mat, and helped Kurt remove his. Once upstairs in Blaine's en suite bathroom, he flipped on a streaming jet of boiling water and stripped down.

Kurt poured bubble bath into the marble tub and waited until a thick layer of pink suds smothered the surface. He climbed in first, Blaine settling between his legs.

"Ahhh," Blaine sighed with content.

"Answer me truthfully." Kurt laced his fingers in Blaine's unruly curls. "Snow or baths?"

"Baths," Blaine said. "Because I get to spend them with you."

Kurt grinned smuggly. "I agree."

"Can you imagine...a couple years from now...having little Kurt and Blaines and possibly Rachels running around?" Blaine whispered into Kurt's wet shoulder. "Playing in the snow...You reprimanding them about the stylish line of winter clothing...Banning snowpants..."

Kurt's grin grew wider. "Oh, honey, our kids will _never _see snow. Thank God."

Blaine chuckled. "We should have a little boy, with your eyes."

"And two little girls with your curls. Of course one of the girls will have to be named Anja, after Anja Gorkle. And another can be Eliza-Marie Carole, after my mom, stepmom, and your mom. Our son will be named Marc Jacobs," Kurt muttered while ticking the children off on his fingers.

Blaine just leaned back and listened to his boyfriend go on and on about their future children and names. He had taken a chance just mentioning a future, and Kurt had gone delightably overboard. He loved it.

"Crap!" Kurt cried, suddenly shooting up.

"What?"

"Blaine!" came the familiar shout downstairs. "You tracked snow into the house!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Kurt's kind of being a bitch here. Anja Gorkle is one of my favorite fashion lines :) GLEE'S ALMOST ON! *dies*

Love,

Lexi


	49. Take A Moment: Part One

**A/N: **Well, hell fire, save the matches, fuck a duck and see what hatches. (yes, peoples, I have been watching _American Idol) _I was _upducted _by unicorn aliens, whom retracted my ability to type stories and access FanFiction! *gasp* Fine, fine. I had too much work to do and I couldn't bring myself to write any more chapters! D: I'm sorry! Hopefully I'll make it up to you...?

Your four part saga surprise! "LIFE IS JUICY, JUICY!"

I deleted With Death Comes Memories, but it will return once I etxtend the chapter :)

HOLY FUCKING NIPPLES! DID ANYONE SEE THE NEW EPISODE? I am DESPERATE to gleek out, so PM me if you feel like it! :D

**Chapter Rating: **You should know by now that my mouth is pretty damn dirty. No sexual content.

**sclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>Take A Moment: Part One: <span>

The gold-encrusted diamond ring was burning a fucking hole in Blaine's pocket. His hands were sweating noticably, making it hard to grip the slender fork. He couldn't focus on the food; he couldn't breathe. These were all obvious symptoms of pre-proposal nerves.

Kurt smiled, stabbing one of the alfredo-doused noodles swiftly. "You know I love shrimp cuisine," he murmured, eyes shining with delight. "How did you even afford this?"

Blaine blushed, staring down at his untouched salad. "The job at my father's office pays well..." he croaked.

Kurt placed his fork down delicately. "Are you okay, baby?" he wanted to know, gently grasping his hand. "Do you feel sick?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Blaine promised. "Just not that hungry."

Kurt's eyes roamed over his features. "'Kay."

Blaine's heart beat magnified in his ears. When could he do it? He swallowed hard, his throat raw with nerves. "You know what tonight is, right?" Blaine asked.

Kurt grinned. "Of course!" He chewed his shrimp cuisine and downed the remaining inch of champagne in his glass before ellaborating. "It's our six year anniversary. We've been living in New York for four and a half years."

Blaine nodded happily. "It's been the best six years of my life."

"Mine, too," agreed Kurt, tightening his grip on Blaine's hand. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Silence between the two enveloped the restaurant. Blaine decided to attempt to eat at least some of the salad, and took a bite of the now bland food. Kurt finished his dish.

"Can I...Can I ask you something?" Blaine muttered, watching his foot begin to bob in a jittery fashion.

"Sure." Kurt folded his hands expectantly.

"I've known you for six years. In those years, I've found love. When my life seemed darkest, like I'd never find love, I found you. You were a shimmering light that blinked through the darkness and...and _saved _me." Realization bloomed on Kurt's face, making Blaine's lip quiver. He got up shakily, removing the black velvet box from his pocket and uncapping it. "You're the most amazing man I've ever had the pleasure to meet. I love you more than anything in the world. My life is perfect. There's nothing else I'd want...Except for you to be my husband." He fell down on one knee. "Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"

Kurt's eyes filled with tears. For a shattering moment, he looked away. Then back. He slumped down onto the floor next to his boyfriend, and reached into his pocket. "Blaine," he whispered. "Like every other thing, you've beaten me to the punch." He revealed a red case, and a pearl ring. "Blaine, _I _was going to ask you to marry me tonight."

Blaine exhaled through his nose, laughing softly. "Is that a yes?" he wanted to know.

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes. A thousand yesses! Yes!" Kurt squealed. "And what about you? Will you marry m-me?"

"YES!" The two hugged tightly, shedding tears of equal emotion-ladden love.

"God," Blaine's mutter was hoarse against Kurt's ear. "I love you so much."

Kurt nodded. "I love you, too."

They pulled back, smiling widely. "Look." Kurt admired the ring that sucked on his finger. "We're fiances! _Fiances." _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yay.

Love,

Lexi


	50. Drifting Away

**A/N: **Holy fuckkkk. Is it the weekend already? Bleh. I'm such an asshole! First of all, I'm sorry for not updating sooner or in larger quantities. Second, I know a lot of you have been prompting (which is _extremely helpful_), but everytime I try and fufill the prompts, I'm completely dead on ideas. I promised, I know, but if I need prompts, I'll ask, no guarentee. Third, I know I was going to write a sequel to Chapter 20: Realization, and to Chapter 49: Take a Moment, but I can't find the inspiration to continue either. I'm sorry.

You guys have been so loyal, every step of the way, especially; _starkidgleek0502, Katerina4life, KlaineLuneville, _and _sparklyshimmer2010. _You guys are the bestest! Lurve you.

_Mac Morgan Lace _wanted some Blangst. I'm afraid I might've gone a bit...overboard with the whole idea, as the next couple chapters are total and complete BLANGST! Enjoy :)

**Chapter Rating: **Sob!

**Disclaimer: **Ido not own _Glee._

* * *

><p>Drifting Away:<p>

Kurt wanted to go to college in New York. Of course he did. Blaine wanted to stay in Lima for another year. They could have a long-distance relationship, right? Skyping every night, frequent text messages...This worked for the first week.

Blaine noticed how Kurt would text and cancel their nightly skype sessions. He was auditioning, attending a Broadway play, or Rachel had convinced him to go to another bar. Blaine's heart became soar, bruised with neglect. It was then he realized the seed of desperation.

Blaine beat his boyfriend to the punch, texting him earlier to cancel their skype sessions. He busied himself with homework, and his job at the Lima Bean. He yearned for Kurt, and New York, yet he could also feel the taught rope of their relationship fraying. Blaine loved Kurt, he did, but...

"Blaine? Blaine!" The young man rounded sharply to face his laptop. It was open, a large, fuzzy image of Kurt yelling at him. Blaine plastered a pained smile on his lips and scooted closer.

"Hi," he whispered, almost tentatively. He peered closer, noticing the hectic scene behind Kurt. Rachel, and several unrecognizable people, were sloppily dancing and laughing, champagne glasses overflowing with sparkling liquid. Loud music pumped throughout the apartment, streamers and gleaming confetti raining down.

Kurt giggled, swatting good-naturedly as a short man leaned in to fill his champagne glass. "Haha! Bill, seriously! We're all going to get alcohol poisoning!"

"Uh, Kurt?" Blaine asked softly.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. It's kind of crazy around here! Parties twenty-four/seven. I wanted to skype you tonight; we haven't talked in forever!" Kurt was shouting.

Blaine scratched his head awkwardly. "Um, mm-hmm."

"What's been going on? How's college? Rachel! Get off the couch!" Kurt's eyes were shining. "She's humping the pillows," he offered as an explaination. "You know how drinking can make her go crazy! Haha!"

Blaine immediately felt foolish. He lowered his gaze to the splatter of dots-coffee stain?-on his carpet beneath the desk. "Speaking of college, I've got a lot of work to do."

"Oh, honey, I bet. When are you going to come out and visit? I miss you," Kurt pouted. He wasn't getting the message. Just then, a brunette with unidenitifiable slop on her chin knelt in front of the camera.

"Blaaaainnneee!" Rachel cooed. "When you going to...s-see us? Hee...I see you now...Get naked..." A look of pure confusion crossed her dialated eyes. "Will you g-get naked?"

Blaine smirked. "Hey Rach."

"Get naked," she reminded him.

"I've got lots of homework; I really shouldn't be skyping right now." Blaine almost regretted saying what he did when a look of fresh, unscathed hurt smothered Kurt's expression.

"Oh, yeah, I understand. Sure. Homework. Okay," Kurt said. "H-Have fun. Uh, good luck."

"Thanks. You too." Blaine prepared to shut off the laptop when Kurt held up his hand.

"I love you," he murmured, blinking back tears.

"Love you, too." Blaine closed the computer.

As the days went by, Blaine found himself turning to alchohol to fog his senses. The more he drank, the better he felt about the now nearly discontinued rope of a relationship. He visited the gay bar routinely, and eventually quit responding to Kurt's texts. _Blaine, we need to talk. Call me. -K We really need to talk. -K Are you there? -K BLAINE! -K _

On the fourth week at the gay bar, a drunk man stumbled upon Blaine. Blaine was wry with need; need to erase his mind of jealousy. They fucked in the bathroom. Blaine didn't scream out Kurt's name when he came...

Meanwhile, laden with auditions, Kurt cried himself to sleep every night. Was Blaine some kind of a sleezeball, never going to contact him again? Kurt _loved _Blaine more than anything. Why was he torturing him like this?

Blaine's phone rang in the middle of the night and he blearily answered it. "Hellooooo?" he grunted.

"Blaine, it's Kurt." Blaine's fingers tightened around his cell phone as he flipped on the lamp.

"Hi."

"Are you avoiding me? Do you want to break up?" Kurt blurted.

"I just..." He ran a hand through his coarse curls. He didn't feel the same way about Kurt...Maybe the love was buried beneath layers of jealousy. "There's another man..." Dezmind, his fuck buddy.

"W-What?" Kurt's voice broke and he let the tears come freely. "Another man? So our relationship meant nothing to you? Those promises, nothing? Great. Great to know that the man I _loved, _wore my heart on my sleeve for, has been seeing another man. Who is it? Dave Karofsky? Wouldn't hurting me more just be such fun? Fuck you, Blaine Anderson, fuck you."

Blaine exhaled slowly through his nose. "Kurt, please..."

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt admitted. "I love you so much. We're over, I suppose. But I want you to know that I loved you."

The line went dead. Blaine laid back. Had he done the right thing? He blinked hard against the saltiness that threatened to burn his eyes. He itched to call Kurt back. "I was jealous; I'm sorry."

...But he wasn't. He wasn't sorry. He wasn't.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I am such an asshole. Fuck me. MICHAEL JACKSON EPISODE CLIPS OUT ON YOUTUBE! *hyperventalates*

Love,

Lexi


	51. Come Away With Me

**A/N: **This is the first chapter to my second fic: Come Away With Me, and if you like it, please go check out the actual story :)

**apter Rating: **Language/character death

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Come Away With Me: <span>

My name was Kurt Hummel. I was pretty much like any average man with a firm dream that you'd meet. I worked hard all through high school, collecting the wage I earned for tutoring the young singers in the local Lima choir and the long hours spent aiding my father in his automobile repair shop. Once I graduated, I bustled off to New York as quickly as possible, finding a cheap apartment and splitting the monthly cost with my best friend, Rachel Berry.

The first couple months went smoothly. We attended NYADA during the days, and spent late nights scraping up a couple bucks by waiting tables at James Craig Cafe. Our apartment was cramped with Rachel's flashy furniture she had inherited when her grandfather passed away and my extensive wardrobe. Yet, we were as happy as two young New Yorkers could be.

Once the first year had passed, everything was flowing just as planned. We had upgraded to a three bedroom, two bath apartment with a lovely skylight and even replaced some of Rachel's furniture. Our jobs waiting tables were far behind us and we now worked in a small theatre a couple blocks away. The pay was more than enough and we found ourselves working less and less, suddenly attending Broadway plays instead.

I was gay. However, I knew enough about the jocks at my school and how they treated supposed "faggots" like me to stay closeted around people other than my friends. I had pretty much given up hope of ever finding the man of my dreams, focusing on my career instead.

Blaine Anderson stepped into my life as suddenly as an unexpected tornado. I loved him. He changed me; morphed me into a better person. I can't remember ever being happier then I was over those three years.

It's such a pressing shame that I had to die. I wish I hadn't. I wish it with all my heart. I wish I could be down there with my Blaine, comforting and cuddling like we used to do. But maybe it was for the best. Maybe Blaine's expected to meet somebody who will change him. I'll be watching, and I'll be smiling. Blaine deserves the best.

I can't really remember how it happened, but I'm sure it'll unravel as the time goes on. I don't like it where I am. It's lovely, sure, with the bright sun never ceasing it's shine in the clear, blue sky, and the crisp grass beneath my feet, but it's lonely. I can't see anyone here. I mean, I can see my Blaine, Rachel, Dad, they're all below me...Kind of like a type of mental picture. But there's nobody actually present with me.

I miss my beating heart. All I am now is a roaming shell. There's a voice that tells me I'll solve this mystery in good time. What am I supposed to do here? I guess I'll sit here by the lake and dangle my feet in. I can't feel the water. I can't feel the minnows nipping at my toes. I miss that sensation.

Perhaps if I start at the beginning, this will seems less confusing for the both of us. Please, sit back, take a deep breath and enjoy the feeling of being alive...

* * *

><p><strong>March (sophomore year): <strong>

"Rachel?" I called, kicking of my Katherine Laboni boots by the door and stepping into our apartment. "What the hell is that awful smell?" A faint whisp of smoke swirled up from a boiling pot on our oven. "Oh, fuck," I groaned, slamming the door and rushing over to dump it in the sink. "Rachel!"

"Here, here!" A scrawny brunette emerged from one of the rooms in the far hall. "Where's the pasta? Is it done?"

I rolled my eyes, motioning to the steaming appliance now cooling beneath a smooth jet of water. "You tried to cook again? How many times must it take for you to realize that singing is your profession, _not _cooking?"

Rachel sighed. "I just thought we could cut back on the budget, you know, with pasta."

"I've never eaten pasta-from-the-box, and I don't plan to. Leave the cooking to me. Besides, what's wrong with take-out?" I asked her, hanging up my pea coat on the hook by the front door.

Rachel ajourned to our russet couch, plopping down on the feather cushions and switching on the T.V. "I'm sick of P.F. Chang's. I wanted to try something different. Ooh, Kurt, _Titanic _is on!"

I grinned, grabbing a Coke from the fridge before joining her on the sofa. "How were your NYADA classes? Did you get that outrageous assignment in Fashion - design a line of winter clothing for male models?" I popped the can, raising it to my lips.

Rachel tore her gaze from _Titanic. _"Yeah, I'm excited. We get to research sexy-ass men for _homework." _

"Sometimes," I said, leaning in closer as if to share a specific secret, "I think Ms. Jenae just gives us those assigments because she masturbates to our drawings."

"Oh, God," Rachel snorted. "That sounds like something Coach Sylvester would've done."

I burst out laughing. "Or Jacob Ben Israel. Remember when we did those Britney Spears numbers in Glee club and he was jerking off to your video. That was fucking hilarious."

It was then we simply rolled on our plush carpet, splashing Coke everywhere and laughing until cramps coiled in our bellies. Rachel leaned back at the foot of the couch, gazing out the window with her pretty, brown eyes. "Hey, Kurt," she whispered.

I nodded, muting the T.V.

"Do you...Do you think we'll ever find _the one?" _Her tone was feeble, breaking off at the end.

I recalled her many flings with my stepbrother, Finn, and stiffled a smirk. "I think you'll find _that one._ But it is, however, up to you if you choose Finn or not. I swear, if you guys keep going on and off-"

Rachel smacked my arm, giggling. "It's his fault, not mine. It's rare I get asked out, so I like to take advantage of it."

"So it has nothing to do with your feelings for him?" I demanded, quirking an eyebrow. "Or the fact that you love to watch romance movies after a break up, throwing crumpled tissues at the screen for me to pick up and making yourself sick with all the ice cream?"

She shrugged. "Hey, ice cream is good for break-ups. And enough about me. Do you think you'll ever find that special man?"

I chewed my lip. The truth was no, I didn't think I'd find a man I truly loved. It was hard enough finding another single gay man. I didn't want to seem desperate enough to date just anyone. "Honestly...There's time left. We're almost twenty. And we live in New York, for God's sake."

"Is that a yes?" Rachel looked genuinely concerned, cocking her head like a puppy.

"I guess there's love out there for everybody," I concluded softly. "If you look for it."

The conversation didn't continue, leaving us to drown in awkward silence and muted images of Rose flouncing about the boat. At last, I stood up and chucked my can in the trash. "Wanna order some Italian food? I'm craving something lowfat and pasta-y."

Rachel smiled. "Call up Olive Garden and I'll pick up the order on my way to the store. I've got to get some ice cream."

"Of course you do."

No matter how many times Rachel and I laughed at the terribly cliche shows on T.V. and joked over the calorie load of the meal, I still felt that cold lump in my stomach. Would I find _that one? _It seemed like I had given up hope a long time ago.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Marisol," I said, lifting a hand to wave half-heartedly at my old-time waitress acquaintance.<p>

Marisol, a charming blonde with baby blue eyes and a lofty grin, clipped her notepad to her belt and sashayed over. "Well, howdy, Kurt," she greeted, a Western drawl tainting her words.

I smiled kindly, taking in the sunken bags beneath her eyes and her hollowed cheek bones. "Has Frank been working you too hard?" I demanded jokingly, referring to the manager of James Craige Cafe.

Marisol cringed, taking a seat in the booth across from me. She slapped a crumpled, damp cloth onto the surface of the table and put her head in her hands. I frowned sympathetically. "What is it, Mari?"

"Remember Theodore? He's at it again."

"Abusing you?" I released a wary sigh. Poor Marisol had a horrible sense in men, not caring how badly they treated her as long and she, and her four children (from various men), got a share in the money they profitted. "Babe, you have to ditch him before he starts taking his anger out on the little ones.

Marisol nodded, sniffling slightly. "I know, I just...Theo's got so much money, and Katherine's sick..."

I caressed her pale elbow. "Rachel and I can babysit, you know that. Please, call us if anything goes wrong; hell, give us a ring if you can't afford to bring Katherine or Josie or one of the little rugrats into daycare."

Marisol snorted. "It's Mike, Jan, Katherine and Bryce, thank you very much," she corrected.

"Well, _excuse me." _I held my hands up in surrender, laughing with relief. "Seriously, Mari, call me, okay?"

She grinned. "You got it, tootse." Pleased that her flare had returned, I stood to give her a hug and a passionate peck on the lips.

"Be careful, yeah?"

"Yeah," she called over her shoulder, heading back towards the kitchen.

I collapsed back down in my seat, raising my non-fat mocha to my lips. Marisol was too easy, allowing her desperation to suffice for the absense of a masculine figure in her life. She wanted the best for her children, yet was going about it all the wrong way. Marisol's head was filled with fantasized images of 'prince charming'; a buff, seemingly suave guy, flaunting his wallet around and secretly hoping to spot a prostitute. They were all sick.

I stared out the slightly fogged window to my right, watching as pedestrians scurried to crouch under black umbrellas, a faint drizzle combing through the streets. Truth - good, down-to-earth truth - is a rare thing to come by these days. Anybody could be anything.

I wondered if I'd ever find somebody whom I could be myself around; somebody who was just as honest. I brushed a lock of my hair out of my face, and turned back to my coffee mug.

Deep in my soul, I doubted it. Deep my heart, a rose of hope blossomed.

* * *

><p><em>"Baby girl, where you at? Got no strings got men attached! Can't stop that feeling for long, nooo. Mmmm! Making dogs wanna beg - breakin' them off yo fancy legs!" <em>Rachel sang abnoxiously, pounding on the windows of our Sudan.

"Oh, my _God, _Rach!" I cried, gripping the steering wheel hard in order to channel some of my fury. "Will you shut up?"

She curled her lip in offense, turning the volume up on the stereo. "_When I get you alone! When I get you alone, babe." _

My hand snapped out and I strangled the dial in a bone-crunching embrace before stabbing it off. "Holy fuck," I cursed. "I do believe I'm permanantly deaf."

"If you remember correctly, I was the lead singer in glee club," Rachel said pointedly, turning to watch the buildings zip by.

"Sure, you were the lead, but I was the best. Everybody agreed," I sneered, winking at her. "How many critics do you think will be reviewing this play?"

Rachel fidgeted, crossing her legs on the nylon seat. She plucked at a loose thread in her sweat pants, brushing the curtain of shiny, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "I'm not sure. Hopefully, though, one of the complete asses that always observe our theatre productions will finally open their eyes and spot my shining talent."

I scoffed, reaching over to tug on the sleeve of her rainbow sweater. "Maybe your _shining talent _is masked by that God-awful fucking sweater you're wearing."

Rachel shoved me good-naturedly.

* * *

><p>That night's performance had the actors jittery and jumping behind stage. I glanced out, watching as our directed, Collene, talked to the audience. Her fiery red hair sparkled with mousse in the illuminating stage lights. Her bright scarlette lip gloss totally clashed with the sequin coated silver gown that hugged her somewhat hefty waist.<p>

Rachel wrapped her arms around my waist. "We did amazing! Did you see me? I rocked the part, baby!"

I nodded in confirmation, awaiting the reaction from the crowd; Collene plastered on a cheesy smile and laughed too loudly. "They were marvelous, no? They were marvelous!"

The audience clapped enthusiastically. "If you are interested in learning more about C.C. Coorperations in Acting Theatre, please visit our website. If you are interested in auditioning for one of our plays, please contact one of our directors. Links can be found at the website. Our actors will be in the lobby, signing for autographs. Thank you so much for attending tonight's performance!"

The crowd clapped again and stood up. "Ooh, here comes my favorite part!" giggled Rachel as the cast began to file into the lobby.

I rolled my eyes. "Everything's your favorite."

In the lobby, a few people clustered around the tables, fauning over our "splendid" attire and congratulating us on our "spectacular" performances. Rachel was butting through the bursts of people, taking their hands and graciously thanking them for coming. "Yes, yes, wasn't I amazing? Mmm? Sure, I'll sign your forehead? Do you have a marker? Permanant? Oh, lovely!" and "Yes, I am quite the supermodel. You want to touch my hair? My stylist will kill me. But what the hell? Isn't it soft? I know!"

I sat down in one of the plastic chairs, grinning at the people gaping at the pictures fanned out on the table. I chewed my lip awkwardly.

"Uh, excuse me?"

I glanced up, fully expecting to see perhaps an elderly man. What I saw, however, made my breath catch in my throat and my heart rate soar upwards. The man was shorter than me, a couple noticable inches. A mop of wild, curly, ebony hair covered the olive skin of his skull, licking his equally dark lashes, positioned over the definite most transfixing orbs I had ever seen. The green eyes, flecked with gold, contained an unbelievable amount of emotion.

I blinked, my chest heaving. The man smiled with suave. "Are you alright?"

I swallowed hard. "Yeah. Yes, sorry. What was it you needed?"

He extended a calloused hand, the lines creased with years of hard work. I stared down at the motion, confused. He cocked a bushy eyebrow. "I won't bite, I promise."

I clasped his hand. "I'm Blaine," he informed me. "Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt Hummel."

Taking that hand was one of the best desicions I have _ever _made.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Do you like it?

Love,

Lexi


	52. Come Away With Me Two

**A/N: **Goodness me, is it already Sunday? Damnnnn. AND THEN ONLY A COUPLE MORE DAYS UNTIL _MICHAEL! _I'VE BEEN ON THE _GLEE _YOUTUBE CHANNEL, JUSTING WAITING FOR THEM TO POST NEW VIDEOS! I'll probably hyperventalate myself into oblivion when the actual episode comes on.

Flames, adoration, hatred, suggestions, anything is insanely helpful.

**Chapter Rating: **Language/character death

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>Come Away With Me Two: <span>

I'm pretty sure I choked on air as Blaine began to speak in his soultry tone. "Your director, Collene? She said that if we were interested in auditioning for a play, we should visit the website. However, I've always been kind of a 'see and learn' man. Do you know when the auditions will be for the next play?"

I swallowed hard, focusing on the dull splatter of dots across the carpet - coffee stain? - and struggled not to jump him right there and then. Blaine was undoubtedly the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. Even above Zac Effron and John Travolta. "N-Next Saturday. It's _West Side Story,_ and a-auditions are at ten."

Blaine smiled widely. "Great, thanks, Kurt."

"Sure." I'm acting like a blubbering asshole. Breathe, Kurt, breathe. It's just a _guy._

"Do you like coffee?" Blaine suddenly demanded.

"Oh, yes, of course. Kurt loves coffee. He drinks it twenty-four/seven. Yep. He does. Do you like coffee? You know what time is Kurt's favorite for drinking coffee? At dates. It's true. Date coffee tastes best," the tiny brunette squeezing my arm and gazing at Blaine like the last chocolate eclair blurted out. Rachel had seemingly wondered over to no doubt embarass the shit out of me. "I'm Rachel Berry and you are...?"

"Blaine Anderson." Blaine cocked an eyebrow at the woman.

"Sorry," I mouthed, attempting to control the urge to strangle the fuck out of my roommate. I twirled my finger in front of my ear in the sign for "crazy".

"Are you single?" Oh. My. _God. _Things can't get any worse.

Blaine glanced at me, pursing his lips in confusion. "I...am. Yeah. Well, Kurt, Rachel, it's been a p-pleasure. Perhaps we'll rondeavu Saturday?"

Rachel beamed. "Why, of course, Blaine. See you then!" Blaine retreated and Rachel's eyes skimmed hungerily over his form. "Damn, he's fine. Look at that ass! Perfect for fucking."

"Rachel!" I wailed, face-palming my forehead. "God damn it, we're at the fucking theatre. In public."

"I'm just saying!" She nodded to Collene, who was waving the cast into the dressing rooms for a clean-up. "Such a shame he's gay..."

"Gay?" I repeated, a sting of hope thumping in my chest. "He's not gay."

"Please, Kurt." Rachel ran a brush through her fine hair and removed her eccentric _Polau _attire. "No straight man is as polite as that guy. Blaine's dapper, charming, handsome, and hell, he didn't even run off the moment I showed up."

"True. But no gay man would ever use that much gel. I mean, his hair almost gave me a heart attack." I retrieved my bag from our "cubbies" and dug out the car keys.

"Mmm," Rachel shrugged. "Either way, it's a win-win. I can date straight Blaine and you can fuck gay Blaine. Deal?"

The very thought of sharing my man made my limbs tingle. _He's not your man, _I reprimanded myself, sliding into the passenger seat.

Rachel fiddled with the iPod doc before plugging the keys into the ignition and backing out. "Won't it be splendid if we can be in the same production as Blaine? Seeing him everyday for a couple months. _Saaa-wooon!" _

I nodded numbly. "Yeah..."

* * *

><p>The next week passed in a haze of thunderstorms. <em>"That's right, ladies and gentlemen. This has been New York's longest stretch of thunderstorms ever. So remember to take an umbrella when you're visiting the Big Apple, and plenty of rain gear. It looks like the month of April won't be seeing sunshine for while longer. And onto Braden with the update on traffic!" <em>

Rachel went out for lunch and to the bar every night with some friends from the C.C. theatre. When I wasn't in front of the T.V., engorging myself with 1960 shots of John Travolta and Olivia Newton, I was on the window seat, gazing down at the fogged, dampened streets of New York.

I felt a strange...compulsion to see Blaine again. Even though I knew that Rachel had probably frightened him away, and there was a five percent chance he would actually show up at the auditions on Saturday, this strand of hope peeked through the stormy clouds.

On Friday night, I sat in front of the television with a mug of coffee and a box of tissues. Rachel hung her coat up on the hooks and kicked off her shoes. "Put them in the basket, Rach, that's why it's there," I called over my shoulder, waving a tissue as I spoke.

She grumbled, apeasing my wishes. Rachel stood behind the couch, untying the ribbon (satin and cashmere? Hell to the no, bitch) and letting her hair down. "_The Notebook, _Kurt? Okay, what happened?" She sat down across from me and muted the T.V.

"What do you mean?"

"We only watch _The Notebook _when we're heartbroken or lovesick. So which is it?" Her calf brown eyes were staring up at me expectantly.

"Lovesick, I suppose. Although, it's non of your business," I snapped.

"Ooh, Blaine, right? That ridiculously sexy man at the ending performance a week ago? Aww, Kurt, sweetie. Have you been having dreams?" she wanted to know.

"Rachel!"

"Have you?" she pressed on.

"God, fine, whatever. Yes. Yes, I have."

"You two are soulmates. Whether or not he thinks he's straight as a rod, or if he's curvy as a fuckin' rainbow. I'm going to be the maid-of-honor at your wedding, of course," Rachel fawned over our future plans, while I reeled what I had just said over in my mind. Had I really just confessed how in love I was? Not smart.

* * *

><p>The next morning, my alarm went off at five thirty exactly. I sat up, going through my usual routine of opening the blinds, turning on my iPod, showering, treating my skin, dressing in a robe and devouring my breakfast of a protein bar and coffee.<p>

I fussed over the selection of clothing in my closet. Nothing seemed right. Was Blaine's favorite color blue? He had been wearing a navy tee last week. Tan brings out my eyes. Did he like my eyes? Perhaps I should wear something that flatters my lips; make them more noticable.

_No. No, no. Stop it. He's straight. _

I settled on a Marc Jacobs' original: a fern cardigan with white skinny jeans and a silk tie. I sat down in front of my mirror, massaging gel into my roots. _"We found love in a hopeless place! We found love in a hoooopppeeelessss place!" _

It was eight thirty-two; we'd have to leave at nine thirty; one hour. I combed my hair back, using a roll underneath my bangs to support them up while the styling cream fused the strands into place.

"Knock, knock," Rachel pushed open my door and stepped inside. She stretched. I turned to cringe at her yellow duckling pajamas and bunny slippers.

"Holy fuck, somebody please call the fashion police!" I teased her. Rachel collapsed on my bed.

"Why the hell do you get up so _fricking _early?" she whined. "I heard you in the shower. Can't you sleep in like a normal person? Only exercize freaks get up at the break of dawn."

"I have a skin care routine," I informed her, removing the roll and watching with delight as the delicate wave remained in position. "And I needed to pick an outfit. Which, obviously, I should be doing for you, too."

"Blehhhh," she whined in return. "I'm going to go make some breakfast."

"Have fun fattening up your ass until that heinous pair of pajamas doesn't fit anymore, thank God," I called after her.

Rachel poked her head back in, smiling viciously. "_Seven A.M., wakin' up in the morning. Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs. Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal. Seeing everything-" _

"Oh, my God, no!" I covered my ears. "Rebecca Black will be the death of me!"

"Good thing for you, then, because I can't remember the lyrics..."

* * *

><p>"Welcome to the C.C. Theatre auditions of the newest production: <em>West Side Story. <em>I'm Collene Christiansen, your director and if you work hard enough, your sponsor."

Rachel and I, along with other older cast mates were sitting on the edge of the stage. Collene addressed the audience of about twenty, none of them Blaine. I sighed softly, watching my shiny black boots reflect the blinding lights from above us.

"They look like a bunch of rascals," Elle, sitting beside Rachel, murmured. Elle's roughly chopped scarlette hair shadowed over her heavily made-up face. She wore a slender black jacket that hugged her waist much too tightly. "It's going to be hard to fix them up."

Destiny, another of our friends, touched a shimmer of gloss to her lips. "Mmm-hmm. It's going to take us forever, and I betcha none of them are going to make it." With Destiny's wildly curly ebony hair and cocoa skin, she reminded me painfully of my high school friend, Mercedes.

"Do you all have your scripts? Excellent. We'll start with the auditions for Tony, page fourteen. Now, Bellona, what are we looking for?" Collene turned to talk to another cast member, Bellona.

She perked up and smoothed her blonde spirals behind her ears. "Well, if you're serious about acting, you've got to have your heart and soul in the character. If you like chocolate ice cream, but your character likes vanilla, you'd better be ordering vanilla on your next trip. Acting is a commitment."

Collene grinned. "Exactly. Now, who's first? Rachel, read off the list please."

Rachel cleared her throat and read the name. "Blaine Anderson." She stiffled a laugh and glanced my way.

My heart pounded deafeningly. He was here?

"Blaine. Blaine Anderson?" Collene clapped her hands.

Blaine stood up, having sat in the last row, and made his way down the aisle. He was wearing a bright red shirt and a loose yellow tie. Blaine jogged up the steps and awaited Collene's directions, a script hanging at his side.

"Tell us about yourself."

"My name is Blaine and I'm twenty years old. I was born and raised in Westerville, Ohio, and attended Dalton Boarding School for Boys. Two years ago, I moved to New York. My favorite flavor of ice cream _is _vanilla, lucky for Tony," he said this part with an added wink at Bellona, who blushed.

"You look gay," Collene pointed out, a jagged fingernail dragging down her chin.

Is it everyone but me? He's not gay! I bit my lip and turned away. Was it possible for him to look even more beautiful? My mind glued to one sentence he had spoken..._Westerville, Ohio, and attended Dalton Boarding School for Boys..._I orgiginated from Lima, not two hours away from Westerville. And didn't Dalton have a glee club? Was a possible we had competed?

"If that's not a fucking sign you're soulmates, I don't know what is," Rachel hissed in my ear.

"That's because I am gay, Ms. Collene," Blaine confirmed. His posture seemed to have stiffened.

Rachel squealed with delight. "Told you! Told you, told you! Oh, my God, this is exciting!"

I blinked hard. He's gay...

"Lovely. And what will you be singing for us today?"

"_Come Away With Me, _by Norah Jones."

"Go on, then."

"_Come away with me in the night_  
><em>Come away with me<em>  
><em>And I will write you a song<em>

_Come away with me on a bus_  
><em>Come away where they can't tempt us<em>  
><em>With their lies." <em>

His voice was that of an angel. Sure, I'd swooned when he first spoke, but damn, this was so much better. He sounded nothing less of Norah Jones, herself, save for the womanly traits. My heart was nearing the explosion point. Even Collene looked awed, watching nearly open-mouthed as Blaine continued.

"_And I want to walk with you_  
><em>On a cloudy day<em>  
><em>In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high<em>  
><em>So won't you try to come?<em>

_Come away with me and we'll kiss_  
><em>On a mountaintop<em>  
><em>Come away with me<em>  
><em>And I'll never stop loving you<em>

_And I want to wake up with the rain_  
><em>Falling on a tin roof<em>  
><em>While I'm safe there in your arms<em>  
><em>So all I ask is for you<em>  
><em>To come away with me in the night<em>  
><em>Come away with me." <em>Blaine finished the song and the theatre erupted with applause.

"Hot damn," murmured Rachel. "Is it possible to just come from listening to somebody sing?"

I fixed her with my most disgusted stare. Gross. Collene was breathless. "I must say, Mr. Anderson, I hung on your every word. Would you mind reading page fourteen, and acting? Destiny, go on and help him out."

The moment Blaine began the piece, it was decided that he would play Tony. Mutters of, "Oh, Lord, why's he gay?" were hushed frequently. Blaine was gorgeous and he was gay.

In the next three hours, all parts had been casted, although none as dazzling as Blaine. I ended the night with recieveing the lowly part of Officer Krupe.

"Thank you for attending the auditions!" Collene said. "Remember that rehearsals begin on Monday."

We dispersed, Rachel immediately linking our hands together. "Everyone thinks he gorgeous," she noted. "Did you hear Elle? She's prepared to strip for him."

"God..." I whispered. "They're all crazy women."

"No, they're _actresses._ The most dangerous type of girls," Rachel sighed with condolence. "Filled with whirlwinds of piping emotion. They'll do anything to get in Blaine's pants."

I glanced behind us hastily. "Good God, Rach, he'll hear you." Blaine was strolling not ten paces away with Collene.

"Good."

"Hey, hey! Kurt, wait up!" cried Blaine, laying a hand on my shoulder. I swallowed and looked up shakily.

"H-Hi. Good job on the...acting," I stammered. Rachel covered her mouth in order to halt a giggle. I shot her my famous, "shut the fuck up, bitch", glare.

"Thanks, same to you. Can you believe it? I got Tony," Blaine's eyes were illuminated with pure elatement. "_Tony. _The lead. I've never gotten the lead in anything."

I laughed. "You deserved it. Blaine, you sounded amazing!"

"Were you on the Dalton glee club?" Rachel suddenly demanded.

Blaine nodded. "Of course."

"We were on the McKinley glee club...New Directions? I think I remember competeing against you guys...Weren't you the robins or something?" Rachel said.

"Warblers," Blaine corrected. "And wow. Small world, eh? How would you like to join me for coffee? I know this great little shopette not a block away from my apartment...James Craig Cafe."

"Well, fuck me a duck!" exclaimed Rachel, while I blushed furiously. "We live a street over from JCC! We used to work here."

"Damn. Even smaller world. Is that a yes?"

I glanced at my roommate, my best friend. _If there is a god, or a dwarf with boobs, hell, I'll even take a talking fish; please, please, please let her say no! Pleaseeee! _

_"_As much as I'd like to," sighed Rach, "I already made plans with Destiny and Elle."

"Such a shame," Blaine said, although he didn't sound sad at all.

"I know! Believe me, Mr. Anderson, you're sexy as hell. But sometimes friends are more important than boyfriends. Kurt's available, mind you. So. Fucking. Available." _I'm going to kill her! Hold me back! Hold me back! _

"Great." Blaine's gaze fastened onto mine and I stumbled a bit. He was capital GORGEOUS. "Shall we, Kurt?"

I bit my lip. "Y-Yes."

"Have fun you two," Rachel shouted after us. "No fucking until the second date!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I hope you enjoyed it. You have no idea how many times I edited it, re-edited it, and added onto it. The story/chapter was named after the song by Norah Jones. Thanks.

Love,

Lexi


	53. Rollin' On a River

**A/N: **I'm watching the SAG Awards! God damn it! _Glee _lost to _Modern Family. _The entire cast looks stunning - especially Naya and Chris. Fuck, I screamed when the camera showed Chris and my mom asked if I was getting molested or just watching _Glee. _XD

This chapter is PURE SMUT! I thought you guys deserved something very yummy. NEW MICHAEL JACKSON EPISODE OUT IN TWO DAYS! Can't...breathe...

**Chapter Rating: **Mature

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee, _but _Glee _should own that SAG Award!

* * *

><p><span>Rollin' On a River: <span>

Kurt's pants were tight. Then again, they were _always _tight. He watched his husband, bent over their ever broken Sudan. The bulging muscles in his finely toned back rippled as he twirled the wrench around a screw, his body glistening with a sheet of sweat.

Kurt swallowed hard and turned to survey the urban countryside the evil fucker of a car had decided was just the perfect place to break down. Tall ferns whipping in the wind stretched over a fine plain of land, distant, purple mountains in the distance. He kicked the sand at his feet with the toe of his Jeninishe Paullo boot and sighed.

"Well, looks like we're going to be stuck here for a while," Blaine said as he straightened up.

Kurt tossed him his t-shirt and leaned back against their car. "Damn it. Remind me; why did we buy this car again?"

Blaine checked his cell phone for bars and after finding none, shook his head. "I don't know. It looked pretty good at the time," he admitted.

"What should we do while we wait for a car to come by?" Kurt wanted to know, dragging his fingers through his hair. He knew the humidity would be taking it's poll soon enough.

"We could play 'would you rather'..." he suggested.

"Okay," muttered Kurt. "You first."

"Would you rather...have sex with a girl or...eat a pizza?" asked Blaine, waggling his eyebrows.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Honey, you know I love you to death and all, and although both are gross...I'd have to say have sex with a girl. If I take one bite of that condemned pizza, I will break out and my life's work will be soiled."

Blaine clutched a hand over his heart in mock offension. "Oh, God, the pain!"

Kurt swatted at his arm. "Would you rather...have a unicorn beat you with his penis...or give a peacock a blowjob?" he demanded.

"First of all, what kind of questions are those? And if a unicorn beats me with his penis, wouldn't that count as rape?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's a unicorn. Would you rather?"

"Probably have a unicorn beat me," said Blaine. "Who knows what peacocks do in their free time..."

Kurt laughed lightly. "Why are all these questions sex-centered?" he said between giggles.

"Maybe it's our inner sickos talking..." whispered Blaine. "Or maybe it's sign of what's to come in the future." Blaine reached out to tug at Kurt's belt loop.

Kurt hissed. "Blaine, we're in public!"

"Kurt," whined Blaine. "Don't make me stay _in pain!" _

Kurt rolled his eyes, but nevertheless, scooted closer. "If anyone sees us..." He slid into Blaine's lap, straddling his waist and smiling suggestively. "I'll beat you with my penis..."

Blaine growled, rolling his hips up to gain friction. Kurt bore down on his husband, panting as they steadied a rhythm. Blaine threw his head back, slamming against the window. "Mmmm..."

Kurt grinded down hard, their equally hardened cocks meeting eachother and eliciting joyous fireworks. "L-love you," Kurt breathed. He held onto Blaine's shoulders for support.

The pressure built up slowly, the two sweating even more in the wry heat of the sun. "God...C-close," whimpered Blaine.

"Come," Kurt whispered in his ear. "Come for me."

With a jerk of his hips and a strangled yelp, Blaine came hard. Kurt tumbled over the edge not a minute later and both sat together, caught in the whirl wind of bliss.

_Honk! Honk! _The duo bolted upright to spot a tow truck a couple feet away. A buff man leaned out of the window, massaging his tempes. "You two done?"

Blaine climbed to his feet. "Sorry, sir! We were just..."

"Have sex, yeah, I know," he grumbled. "You want to get your car fixed or not?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine was blushing furiously. He leaned back a bit to mutter in Kurt's ear. "I wonder if he's going to beat us with his penis..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **KLEX! 'Kay. Love you.

Love,

Lexi


	54. One: Coffee Love

**A/N: **This is reallyyyyy short, but there are twenty more of them coming. This is to celebrate Valentine's day and also sneak previews of my soon-to-come story ;) Please enjoy...

**Chapter Rating: **Eh. Appropriate.

**Disclaimer: **I own _Glee. _Of course I do.

* * *

><p><span>OneCoffee Love: 

Blaine had just gotten a job at his father's office and when he wasn't at school, Blaine was filing at work. Kurt missed their frequent study dates and evening strolls, soon finding himself not even recieving a good-night text from his boyfriend.

Kurt attempted to assure himself that Blaine would be returning to their regular routine once things slowed down at work. Blaine still loved him, right? There was nothing to worry about. Nevertheless, Kurt tossed and turned during late nights spend alone.

One day in particular, after finished a geography essay, he pulled out his phone and sent an almost desperate text to Blaine: _boredddd. coffee at the lb? love, kurt._

Without waiting for a reply, Kurt snatched his favorite pea coat and headed down to his car. The autumn air was powdered with the smell of pumpkin pie, crimson, tangerine and golden leaves skittering across the pavement.

Kurt sought relief in the warm embrace of the Lima Bean and instantly headed to their usual table. He glanced outside nervously. Blaine had to show up. He _had _to. A frosty mist coated the see-through window, various finger-prints blotting out the pedestrians as they jogged past.

Thirty minutes ticked away on the clock, and still there was no sign of Blaine. Kurt fiddled with his phone, debating whether or not to call his boyfriend.

"Kurt?" the squeaky voice interrupted his thoughts. Kurt glanced up to spy their usual waiter, Samantha, supporting a red Styrofoam cup. "Special coffee for you."

Kurt shook his head, suppressing a sigh. "I, uh, didn't order anything," he protested.

"Oh, I know." Samantha smoothed one of her fiery red locks behind her ear and winked. "But as I said before, it's a _special _order."

She set down the cup and patted his shoulder. "Thanks?" Kurt called after her. He stared down at the coffee, and after further inspection, realized there was a note attatched to the side.

He carefully removed it. _Kurt, sorry I couldn't make it. I'm an asshole! Hopefully this will suffice? *heart* Blaine._

Kurt's breath caught in his throat. He uncapped the lid and peered down into the mug. Atop the spiral of whipped cream perched a pink heart created entirely out of Sprinkles. Inside the heart was a laced 'K&B'.

Kurt's fingers shook and he blinked back tears. Blaine really did care. He slid a gold embroidered notebook out of his messenger bag and retrieved a cheap pen from one of the waiters. Gently, he wrote: _11/6/11...Blaine sends coffee with heart of sprinkles. _He sketched a hasty drawing of the image in his cup before stuffing the book back in his pack and leaning back.

He raised the cup to his lips. Kurt thought that coffee tasted better when it was sprinkled with love.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **What do you think, bitches?

Love,

Lexi


	55. Two: Rose Love

**A/N: **The next ensemble. Only nineteen to go.

**Chapter Rating: **Sex. No. Just kidding - it's totally PG.

**Disclaimer: **Penises...da fuck?

* * *

><p><span>TwoRose Love:

"Oh, my God, Kurt, look at this!" squealed Rachel, pushing his locker closed in order to flaunt her new prize. A thick, silver 'F' hung on the chain Rachel dangled in front of his nose. "Look at what Finn gave me! Isn't it pretty? I bet it was expensive."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Yep. I bet it costed a whole _month's _savings," Kurt snapped.

Rachel trailed behind him. "God, you don't have to be mean."

"You're right," he agreed, shuffling pack a couple making out. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just..."

"Distressed? Disappointed? Neglected?" offered Rachel. She pressed a kiss to the large lace heart pasted on the window to the glee choir room. "I'm assuming you didn't get anything from Blaine."

"Yet," reminded Kurt, although he appeared to be assuring himself more than her.

"He's in every one of your classes," Rachel cried. Kurt slung his bag over the back of his chair and plopped down. "That boy is oblivious."

"Not oblivios - just busy," Kurt said.

"Busy with what? It's fuckin' Valentine's Day."

"Rachel!" Kurt reprimanded. "Language!"

"Uh, Kurt?" came the familiar voice from the door. Mike was standing awkwardly in the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck. "Could you, uh, come out here? For a minute?"

"Sure, Mike," Kurt replied. He stood up and made a big show of racing towards the door. Rachel stuck her tongue out at him. "What is it?"

Mike motioned toward the far wall, against which stood Blaine. He was caressing a bouqet of stems. Not flowers, just flower _stems. _He grinned up at Kurt and waved him forward.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart," he said, pecking his cheek and hefting over the stems.

"Wow..." murmured Kurt, kind of dazed. "Thanks..."

"I know that roses are your favorite," continued Blaine.

"Oh. Mmm-hmm. These are great."

Blaine burst out laughing. "Your expression! Oh, my God!" he chortled. "I can't stand it - come on out guys."

Kurt wheeled around at the sudden sound of blaring music. "_We found love in a hopeless place! We found love in a hopeless place!" _Finn, Puck, Rory, Artie and Mike burst out of the algebra classroom, carrying pails.

They danced in a circle around the still howling Blaine and Kurt; it would've been funny if Kurt wasn't so alarmed. They scattered rose petals, seemingly into some planned formation. A minute later, the boys stepped back to survey their work and high-fived. Blaine drew an actual rose out of his back pocket and placed it in front of the cluster of rose petals.

Kurt sniffled. Piled on one another, the rose petals clearly read: _I *heart* you. _The full rose was the 'i'. Kurt wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and leaned into Blaine. "This is...beautiful. God, I love it. Thank you!"

Blaine kissed him tenderly. "You deserve it, sweetheart. You should've seen your face when I gave you the stems!"

Kurt smacked his arm. "You cheeseball," he grumbled.

Back in the classroom, in the midst of yet another one of Tina's Mike-dedicated hyms, in hysterics, of course, Kurt summoned his notebook. _2/14/12...Blaine creates ensemble of rose petals that say I love you. The cheeseball._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, now I have to go get some roses and coffee.

Love,

Lexi


	56. Three: Ornament Love

**A/N: **Another chapter for the Valentine's Day Twenty-One. I was feeling very Christmassy, considering Valentine's Day is ten mother-fucking days away! Whoop whoop!

I tried to update yesterday, but I was a slacker and went dress shopping instead. I'm sorry. Ooh, Blaine's mother is named Serina and his father is named John in this. He also has a sister named Mallory, who's four years older.

**Chapter Rating: **Appropriate.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>ThreeOrnament Love:

Winter struck hard that year in Lima; a constant wall of stone grey clouds sprinkling their crystalline snowflakes across the bleary town. Kurt lifted a string of popcorn out of the dusty cardboard box and held it up distastefully.

"You know," he muttered, "I never really understood the significance of these things. Finn's already eaten all the strings on our trees."

Blaine laughed, placing a yarn doll delicately admist the pine branches. It was a stormy winter Saturday and Blaine had invited his boyfriend over to help decorate the Anderson family tree. Serina, his mother, and John, his father were both away at work. "I'm not sure either. I just remember Mal and I making these a couple years back; when I was five and she was nine. They're kind of like...heirlooms."

"Stale, rotten-smelling heirlooms," chuckled Kurt. He wound the cord around the tree and stood back to survey his work, hands on hips. "Is Mallory coming home this year?"

Blaine sighed, lifting a silver orb with the image of Hawaii onto the outstretched limb. "I don't think so," he admitted. "She hasn't come back since she left for college. Not like my parents care, anyways."

Kurt wandered over to a mahogany nightstand and lifted a framed photograph up to inspect. Captured in a sunny meadow and standing perfectly as always were the prim Anderson family. Serina, with her smooth blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, had a hand on her son's shoulder. Beside her was John, in his agonizingly crisp work suit. His untamed dark curly hair, which both children had inherited, was flattened down. Blaine was fourteen years old, a bright smile glued on his immaculant features. Mallory, eighteen, was waving a diploma as if to say, "Hahaha! See you later, suckers."

He supressed a sigh. Blaine's family, although seemingly the stereotypical definition of "perfection", was nothing less than distcintly torn. "That's the last of them," Blaine said, stacking the empty boxes in a corner.

Kurt gently placed the picture back on the stand and kissed Blaine's cheek. "It looks great," he commented.

Blaine nodded his apporval. "Would you mind if I give you your Christmas gift now?" he asked softly. "I've had it prepared for days, but everything's been so hectic..."

Kurt blinked. "Sure. Yeah, sure."

Blaine laced their fingers together. "I'll be right back..."

The faint shimmering glow from the string of lights on the tree illuminated the elogant living room, a warm wave emanating from the fireplace in the far left. Kurt rubbed his hands together and glanced outside.

Snowflakes dusted over the acutely trimmed garden and distant cookie-cutter houses across the street. Kurt car had already been sheeted with a thin blanket of snow. He wondered if it would be a tough drive back.

"Here we go," Blaine grunted, supporting an oddly shaped package wrapped in newspaper.

Kurt grinned. "My, my, my. Looks like we've got a wrapping winner..."

"Shut up," protested Blaine, blushing. "Your present's quite...difficult to wrap. Oh, never mind. Just open it!"

Kurt stooped to tug the feeble red statin ribbon off and then peel away the newspaper. A miniature Christmas tree spawned of nearly pine needle-less thin branches standing a foot tall greeted his gaze. One simple blue square hung on the top branch.

K&B was ingraved in sparkling silver across the ornament. On the back was scrawled "love forever". Kurt's heart thumped happily. "Blaine...This is...Wow. Wow. It's amazing. I love it."

"I know it's stupid," he muttered. "But I figured once we get the hell out of Lima and into New York, it can be a symbol of our first Christmas together."

"It's not stupid at all. Cliche, maybe," Kurt joked. "I love it."

As Blaine leaned down for a kiss and the ornament was imprinted deeper into the palm of his hand, Kurt made a mental note to write in his booklet: _12/20/11...Blaine gets first Christmas tree and "I love you" ornament._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Blaine, you cliche cheeseball ;)

Love,

Lexi


	57. Four: PlayDoh Love

**A/N: **Very short, very stupidish. Hopefully very entertaining :)

**Chapter Rating: **Appropriate.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><span>FourPlay-Doh Love:

"How about this?" Blaine asked hopefully, waving two plastic tubes of Play-Doh in front of Kurt.

Kurt sighed, lowing the newest copy of _VOGUE _and looking up at Blaine warily. "When I said you should find something to do, I didn't mean Play-Doh."

"Come on," whined Blaine, taking a seat on the barstool next to his boyfriend. "Play-Doh is fun." He uncapped the containers and dumped two sticks of pink dough onto the table.

"Play-Doh is a pointless creation designed to muddle the minds of young children, and no doubt their opportunity of ever recieving a proper manicure. It's a disgusting formulation," Kurt stated. He flipped one of the waxed pages in _VOGUE _and resumed his _tsk-tsking _of Beyonce's newest baby attire. e

Blaine pounded the dough into balls. "I think it's fun," he repeated softly. "Besides, it's squishy."

The minutes rolled on silently, Blaine spawning various Play-Doh animals. Finally, Kurt closed his magazine and yawned. "Well, how was your Play-Doh adventure? Make any new..." Kurt's sentence trailed off as he realized what was fanned out on the surface in front of him.

Spelled out in sickly pink Play-Doh lettering on the table were the words, "I LOVE YOU". Kurt's mouth dropped slowly.

"Oh, Blaine," he mumbled.

Blaine grinned bashfully. "It's stupid, I know."

Kurt clutched his arm. "No, no, it's beautiful." He kissed his cheek. "T-Thank you."

When Kurt returned home that night, he retrieved his notebook out from his bedside table drawer. Picking up a pencil from his bag, he quickly scribbed, _4/9/12...Blaine creates Play-Doh montauge of love._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Ohhhhhh, future boyfriends! Take notes! :p

Love,

Lexi


	58. Five: Sign Love

**A/N: **Thank you for all the reviews! I loves dem.

Is it so bad that I left one of my _Glee _CDs in my parents' car outside and ran to get it, screaming, "MOMMA'S COMING, BABY!" and when I got to the CD, I hugged it a murmured, "Shh...Mama's here..."? I think not ;)

**Chapter Rating: **Appropriate.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee. _

* * *

><p><span>FiveSign Love: 

Kurt was wringing his hands nervously; his embarassingly sweaty hands. He smoothed back his hair and glanced out between the part in the red velvet curtain. Rows upon rows of people were staribng up expectantly as Principal Figgins introduced the current line of seniors standing on the stage; Rachel, being one of them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage McKinley graduate, Rachel Ann Berry!" Rachel bounded onto the stage, taking a gracious bow at the applause and accepting the diploma. She moved the yellow tag on her graduation hat to the other side and stepped up to make her speech.

Kurt turned away, inhaling shakily. How the _hell _was he supposed to go out there and make a statement about how McKinley had changed him, made him a better person, when in truth, all the dreaded high school had done was shoved him away from opportunity.

"You okay, bro?" demanded Finn, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh. Um, y-yes. Fine. Just a bit nervous," he confessed. "I'm not sure what I'm going to say."

Finn chuckled. Instead of the regular cap and gown, the football players were permitted to wear their jerseys, as such Finn was clothed. With the recognizable tees, the football players were easy stars. "It won't be that hard. Besides, everyone from the club will be watching. And mom and Burt and Blaine, too, right?"

"That's what I'm worried about," sighed Kurt. On stage, Tina was recieving her diploma. "I honestly couldn't care less what Azimio or you know, Santana's grandmother think of me. I'm worried about my family's opinions."

"We got your back," Finn said, ruffling his hair.

Soon, it was Kurt's turn. "Ladies and gentlemen," announced Principal Figgins, "please welcome to the stage McKinley graduate, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel." This roused giggles from the crowd. _Wow,_ Kurt thought crossly. _What a wonderful way to begin my fucking graduation speech. _

"Thank you," Kurt croaked, clutching the rolled phamplet and turning his hat tag. The principal stepped back and Kurt gripped the microphone. He cleared his throat. It was loud and raspy over the speakers.

"Uh, hi," he whispered. "My name is Kurt Hummel, and I'm a senior. Well, I guess that's pretty obvious."

Artie, Rachel, Tina, Mike and Sam offered thumbs-up from the line of already diploma-clad graduates. Kurt's eyes frantically searched through the crowd of people for a supportive face. Burt was smiling awkwardly. Carole nodded. Blaine was holding up a sign. Kurt strained to read the words printed on the poster in black Sharpie. "I LOVE YOU, KURT."

His heart swelled dramatically. The sheer knowledge that Blaine had enough courage to hold up that sign at a homophobic school, where they could easily be pummeled to death, and had no fear, made tears prick the corners of his glasz eyes.

"I guess there really is no way to describe four years at McKinley," Kurt began. "At times, I admit, it's be raw torture. But for the most part, when I'm with my best friends, it can be pretty damn good. I've found my way to the yellow brick road, you might say. As I excell and go onto new adventures in New York, I'll never forget this place. I'll never forget the times I've been shoved into lockers. Nor will I forget the many times glee club broke into joyous song routines. I won't forget the planning for NYADA concieved here with Rach, or the times I was still trying to discover my identity. Most of all, I won't forget the one person that changed my life entirely. Blaine Anderson. Through all the pain and sorrow, through all the bullying, he's the one person that's _always _been there for me. He took away my fear and replaced it with courage. There is no person I love more. All I'm trying to say, McKinley, is thank you. Thank you..."

The audience burst into applause as Kurt took his seat by Finn. Finn cheered loudly. "Wooo!"

Kurt rumaged around in his backpack strung behind the plastic chair. He clutched the binding of his notebook and carefully opened to a new page. _6/3/12...Blaine holds up "I love you" sign and gives me courage. Best graduation ever._

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><p><strong>AN: **Oh, and if you guys have any suggestions on the ways Blaine can say I love you, don't hesitate to tell moi!

Love,

Lexi


	59. Six: Balloon Love

**A/N: **What the fuck am I doing posting on a Wednesday? I am too good to you ;)

Last night's episode was AWETABULOUS! I loved the Furt moments and I do believe I'm starting to like Emma...yuck! Her phamplets had me laughing my ass off and I loved the "girls night" with Kurt. Masterpiece!

**Chapter Rating: **Appropriate.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

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><p><span>SixBallooon Love: 

"Rachel, honestly," protested Kurt as the short brunette dragged him down the somewhat ghetto hallway to their new apartment. Kurt was still giddy with excitement; an excitement that still had no faded even though he and Blaine had purchased the apartment more than a week ago. It was their first step to a plentiful adventure in New York. Today was the day they were finally going to map out places for furnature. No more sleeping on mattresses in the cold floor of their new kitchenette.

"I live there. I see it every day! Why are you being so ridiculous? I've got to get back to class in twenty."

"Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to show you something," said Rachel. "No more questions, 'kay?"

She pressed the card key into the slot and pushed open the door. Kurt trailed behind her reluctantly. "Ughhh. Rachel, twenty minutes..." His voice quickly came to an end as he surveyed their apartment.

When he had left this morning for college, the walls were white-coated, peeling and dotted with wet stains. The cabinents in the kitchenette contained two plastic bowls and Stryofoam cups, and only three had doors. The entire apartment was bare, save for the queen-sized mattress in the far corner. Now, however, the walls were a vibrant crimson. The kitchenette was completely furnished, with a small table and door-clad cabinents. A velvet couch and matching loveseat with a dark coffee table and even a T.V. occupied the living room. A glittering chandellier cast sparkling shadows on the polished wood floors.

Kurt lifted a surprised hand over his mouth. Blaine was standing directly in the pathway of the door, holding long strings attatched to heart-shaped balloons. One read "WELCOME HOME!", another read "HOME, SWEET HOME!", "HONEY, I'M HOOOOME!", "HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS!" and "I LOVE YOU!"

"Do you like it?" Blaine demanded tentatively. "I know we wanted to decorate together, but you love surprises and I couldn't resist...But if you don't like it-"

"No. N-No," murmured Kurt. "It's amazing. This is _amazing." _He embraced Blaine. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Blaine laced their fingers together and lead him into their quaint bedroom. While Blaine explained the different types of comforters he bought, Kurt quiently adjourned to their bedside table and retrieved his notebook from the drawer.

_7/23/12...Blaine decorates apartment and presents "I love you" balloon._

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><p><strong>AN: **I went snow-shoeing today...Never. Again.

Love,

Lexi


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